Round II
by Seamagik
Summary: Nickeldime17 wanted to play the alphabet game again and asked me to supply the prompts; everyone knows I have a fangirl crush on Nickledime17, so here you go. Round II of the Max and Alec alphabet game with new Seamagik supplied prompts.
1. ABC

Yeah, so... nickeldime17 wanted to play the alphabet game again, and asked me to supply the prompts. Which is great, 'cuz she supplied the prompts last time, so now she'll get to partake in the fun of Creativity Gone Wild. So, here's the first three. Thanks to quirkies for suggesting the prompt for A! It's kind of like the flipside of Yawn. Thanks to the movie Labryinth for supplying B, and well, I guess my muse for supplying C. If you're a LJ lurker, these haven't changed much from their original forms, just cleaned up some minor mistakes.

* * *

_A is for Alpha_

_Rated M_

* * *

This was all very, very new territory.

From the time that she'd been a child, Max could only remember _taking_ orders, not _giving_ them. Zack and Tinga had been the alpha's of her unit; every eye had followed them. In all honesty, Max had been relatively low on the totem; the only female she'd had status on was Syl… to everyone else, she was "baby sister". And when she'd been younger, she'd liked it that way…

But now that she was older, leading a nation in which animal instinct tinged the edge of every power play, every command, the whole thing was a hindrance that was starting to piss Max off. For the most part, she made up for her lack of edge in the alpha department with bitchiness that went for miles and a caustic tongue that could send even the most hardened transgenics running for the hills.

…But sometimes it annoyed her that no one backed down from her stare, only from her tongue. That she couldn't send people from a room with a pointed look and a small gesture, but had to chase them out with a well-aimed kick or a harsh word. To be brutally and totally honest… sometimes it annoyed Max that she wasn't Alec.

It came so frickin' easy to that guy.

It all made its way back to her eventually; through other transgenics, through Cindy, through the whispers that always followed behind him. He'd been instrumental in bringing transgenics and transhumans together… merely by showing up in T.C., lookin' for Joshua. He'd been the one that'd rallied the transhumans, bringing them to the hostage swap that day Sam had been in town, effectively saving Max's ass. He'd been the one that Gem and Dalton, all transgenics, really, immediately and implicitly trusted. He'd been the one to calm Mole with merely a gesture and not a single word that day of the Jam Pony fiasco. Whatever it meant to be an 'Alpha', Alec apparently had it in spades. Now that other transgenics were constantly around, it was like the sun shone out of his frickin' ass and everyone saw fit to point it out to her and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

She'd mentioned it to Logan, once. And she'd never mention it to him again, because Logan used her really rather serious attempt at a conversation to, once again, bring up that time he'd saved a wounded Alec from that Familiar chick. Guy needed a new story. Seriously.

So, instead, Max did her best to fixate on all the times Alec had screwed up, and there were plenty of those from his days just out of Manticore, to remind herself that she was the better leader. She was chosen for a reason. Not just because Sandeman had designed the runes into her code. Not just because she was some apocalyptic savior.

"Because there was no one else stupid enough to take the job," Mole snorted.

"What did you just say to me?" Max hissed.

"Max has more experience at evading The Man then anyone else," Alec pointed out. Max wished he'd shut it. She could fight her own battles.

"Yeah… Evading." Mole grunted and Command fell silent, eyes swinging to the fight brewing in its center. "We're not evading nothing by sitting here waiting for the bombs to drop."

"You agreed to stay and fight! To stand up to them!" Max exclaimed.

"Yeah!" Mole argued and his next words made more than one face turn grim in agreement. "And yet all we're doin' is exchangin' diplomatic bullshit across the fence while your little monkey lover tries to win over the populace that wants to see us all dead!"

Alec coughed; dangerous territory. Mole glanced at him. Max did her best to ignore him, still fixated upon the tall transhuman, the only person she counted as more annoying than Alec.

"Don't even get started on Logan again! He's doin' more for us than you are right now!" She shouted into Mole's face.

His large hand connected with her shoulder, shoved her out of his personal space. "Yeah, 'cuz you won't let anyone do anything 'cept stick our thumbs up our-"

"Okay, kiddies" Alec pushed himself from his lean over the table, his expression becoming stern. "I think we've had enough playtime for today."

"We're not done," Max scowled at Mole. Mole scowled back.

"Yes, we are," Alec's voice had taken a hard edge and both Max and Mole stiffened and looked away from him, away from each other. Mole finally grunted something about lunch and slipped out of Command to overwhelming silence. Max turned and did her best to not stomp back to her office. When he came in, she was staring out the window, the melancholy that'd been plaguing her for the past few weeks having caught up with her once more.

Alec must not have known what to say, because he paused in the doorway, watching her for only a moment before turning to leave without a word.

"How do you do that?" She asked, stopping him.

He frowned and he turned to face her. "Do what?"

"Just… say something and have people immediately do your bidding." Her forehead touched cool glass, just for a moment, the barest concession to how tired she felt.

Alec scratched the back of his head. "Dunno." He shrugged, the smirk she couldn't see shining through in his voice. "Just lucky, I guess."

Max sighed, because part of her knew that there was more to it then luck.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Max, don't be like that. People just like me, is all. I mean, you n' I've got the whole good cop, bad cop routine goin' on; of course people are more willing to-"

"That's not it and you know it." Max's voice was soft as she straightened, her eyes still focused on some spot on the distant skyline.

She could feel his eyes move across her back; could feel him look away. Could feel his presence, so strong, overwhelming. When she'd first gotten out of Manticore, she'd thought he was just transfixing her with his annoyingness, making her hyperaware of his activities. The truth, that her eyes followed him because her genetics demanded it, was harder to swallow.

"What do you want me to say, Max?" He rubbed tired eyes.

What could he say? What could he possibly say to fix this whole strange situation? She wanted it to be his fault, but it wasn't… it was Nature's, or Manticore's, or whatever it was that had given Alec that imperceptible _something_ that made people stand up and take notice. They followed her orders, of course they did, just like they'd all followed the orders of the handlers back at Manticore… but no one snapped to it for her they way they did for him.

"Besides," Alec grunted, turning to leave once more, his hand resting on the doorframe. "This is probably the kind of thing you should be talking about with your Second, not with me." And he slipped out into the hallway before she could even turn to face him, to face the bitterness in his voice.

Max sighed as she was reminded of her second greatest mistake after not making Alec her Second… defying all logic, all convention, all naysayers, and making Logan it instead. And her arguments had made sense at first. To the doubters; Logan had more than enough experience with Eyes Only and all his contacts would prove useful. To the haters; Logan was just as involved in the war effort as everyone else and at the end of they day they were all human, so what did it matter if he wasn't transgenic? To Alec; he's proof to the U.S. that we can work with normal people, _we're_ not racists, and to top it all off, he's the best man for the job. Mature. Stable. Intelligent. Computer savvy. All things a Second should be.

But if anything, making Logan her Second had only compounded her troubles. Her already tenuous grasp was weakening further… and to top it all off, she knew that it'd hurt Alec's feelings to boot. Granted, he still did all the work of the job of a Second… just without the title that she hadn't thought would be important to him.

Logan was a good guy… but whether Max admitted it or not, he had no business making plays in transgenic politics and it seemed everyone and their clone was trying to point that out to her. Max tried not to admit it; tried to hold on to the belief that she was a human. As for the other part… she quelled the guilt and pretended that Alec's feelings weren't important to her. That T.C. would still run smoothly even if Alec stopped working on the sidelines…

She did her best to ignore the unstable situation… until it blew up in her face.

"I said no one was to harm the Familiars," Logan scowled at Mole. "The public-"

"I don't give a damn about the public. And I don't take orders from the likes of you," The tall scaly man hissed in return. The T.V. droned on in the background, the reporter's voice illuminating in gleeful detail the state of the bodies that'd been found by the river.

"No, but you take orders from me," Max's frown was a twin to Logan's, despite the fact that some of those bodies that'd been found belonged to some of the people under her command. "And he's my Second, which means-"

"I _said_ I don't take orders from _apes_," Mole turned on Max. "And it's getting harder to take orders from a trannie that wants to _be_ an ape." Mole paused, his sneer deepening. "To be honest, I'm not sure how smart it was in the first place; making the runt of Manticore's most defective litter-"

"Mole, that's enough." Alec's voice broke over them, stalling Max's fist. He'd been leaning in the corner, but he finally pushed himself away from his spectator's position and joined the fray.

"I'm just saying what everyone else is too scared of her bitchiness and your support to admit!" Mole ignored Max's bristle and whirled on the man that she wished was the source of her problems. "Why do you defend them? We both know you could get more done with a look then those two could with-"

Alec snagged the taller man by the sleeve and pulled him out the door and Max hadn't heard what'd been said, but whatever it was, the two sometimes-friends had come to blows in the street outside of Command.

"Why do you stay?" Max asked him later, handing him an ice pack for one bruising cheekbone. Her voice was bitter; she'd heard some of the whispers, after all. "I mean, if you're so fucking alpha, why don't you-"

"I believe in you," He interrupted. And her breath caught in her throat because she didn't know how to react to a statement so simple and so awesome.

"Plus," Alec grunted, wincing as he placed the cool plastic against his face, "Doesn't matter what anyone else says; we're more than just the carriers of freaky instinct that the whackjobs at Manticore cooked us up with… We _are_ human. Besides." His little half-smile was playful and warm. "You're the right woman for the job. The only woman for the job. You're the only one that can make them see that we're more than what they made us."

Was this the really the same man that'd sauntered into her cell a year ago with a cocky grin and devil-may-care attitude? The man that she'd told herself she'd never want; that'd never mean anything to her past an annoying waste of space that ate her time, patience, and resources?

Who'd changed? Him? Or her? Or had they just met somewhere in the middle?

Alec dropped the ice pack to the floor at her somber look. He leaned back into the couch and stared hard at her. "You really want to fix the Alpha thing?" He finally asked into the silence.

Max had a feeling she wouldn't like whatever the 'fix' was. "How?" She asked, her voice soft.

"Find someone to claim you," Alec shrugged. "Mated partners share the status of the most dominant of the two."

"Yeah right," Max scowled, glaring at him in suspicion. "Even if I was that desperate, where would I find-"

Alec's eyes slid up and caught hers and her breath once more lodged in her windpipe and would not move for all the burning lungs in the world. He glanced away, but his words could not hide what his eyes had told her. "I dunno. There's gotta be _somebody_ stupid enough to do it."

Yes. Yes, there was. Her head cocked to the side and her eyes narrowed and she released the held breath, attracting his eyes once more. He shifted in discomfort as she took slow, sauntering, swaying steps to him.

Because she'd finally seen it; seen what some secret part of her had always known. For all of his alpha status, for all of her lack thereof… She had some kind of power over him. Always had. If she asked it of him, he would do it.

But… but he was her friend. Could she really demand that of him? And there was still Logan to think of… And…

"Max?" He asked softly when she was before him, and she wondered how it'd gone from her asking him, to him asking her.

Her breath hitched and her eyes fell shut as he reached for her. "Oh god, yes."

He had her laid out on the couch, kneeling on the ground between her splayed legs, eyes roving gently across the dark material of her shirt. His fingers danced across her neck; too visible. Down her front, lifted a scant millimeter above her breast, following the curve in the air; too intimate. Splayed gently against her flat stomach; too awkward. Slid across the edge of the grey cargo pants. Pulled the tab free. Shoved the material away from one curved hip. Leaned down and placed a chaste kiss there on the hipbone. Yes. There. Now. Please, Alec, please, please.

She didn't realize she'd said it all out loud until he grunted, his fingers digging convulsively into the tops of her thighs, his teeth digging into the sensitive skin above her hipbone. She jerked in pain as she felt the skin break. Discomfort was forgotten quickly as his tongue swept across the mark and the whole of her being realized that yes, he was between her legs, yes, that was his lips on her skin, and oh my god, that was Logan. Her eyes widened in horror.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Alec broke away from her hip, his green eyes sliding up to meet Max's. And she couldn't look away, not until the corner of his mouth quirked and he looked away first, standing slowly.

"I said-"

"Calm down, Log-man. It's just politics." Alec turned to face the blonde man, his small smile disappearing into neutrality.

"Politics?" Blue eyes darted to Max in angry disbelief as she zipped her pants, sitting up slowly, legs still slightly open to accommodate the ache that had developed. Logan's eyes danced across her knees and her legs snapped together and Alec coughed to cover something that could have turned to laughter.

"Don't worry," Alec shrugged, his hand dropping away from his mouth, amusement still tingeing his voice. "I'm just doin' my part to help out the war effort. You remain the untouchable boyfriend and Second extraordinaire."

_For now_, his amused silence, that fairly vibrated the room, seemed to say.

Alec turned to look at Max and his eyes caressed her hip and his voice became a murmur and her hands squeezed the worn green felt of the couch. "I'll see you tonight,"

"Yes," She breathed without thought.

"Max?"

Her eyes snapped back to Logan. "Umm… I mean, sorry, I… got this thing, tonight. Eyes Only."

His smile was wicked. "Do you?" For a moment, she wondered if he'd use that edge on her, that edge of animal that could get others to obey, that edge he'd never focused solely upon her in a negative way. He finally just did that little half-shrug, his wicked grin softening to an amused smile. "Well… have a good time."

Max slumped in a mixture of relief and disappointment as he brushed past Logan, leaving her alone with the man that she told herself was her boyfriend and all of his silent recriminations.

Max spent the rest of the evening practically clawing at the walls. Every movement made the harsh material of her pants move against the imprint of teeth on her hip. Reminded her of him. Of her _need_ for him. She'd just clicked off the desklamp, and she was readying to leave for Logan's, and she was almost out of her mind... That's when he slipped in. And shut the door behind him, not bothering to throw the flimsy bolt that would hold no transgenic anyway.

"So," He rolled his shoulders, looking like he was easing away some tension. "Still got that thing tonight?"

His eyes were narrow, his hair mused, the hungry look hidden in his eyes telling her that he may have spent his afternoon just as unfocused as her.

"Yeah," She waited in the soft darkness in the center of the room, waited for his lazy strides to bring him close. He plucked at the seam at her shoulder, a distracted frown on his face, like he was tryin' to work up the courage to-

It was like a dam breaking inside of them.

His mouth, so hot against hers, as he pushed her back into the desk. Her fingers, scrabbling at his back, pulling his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans. His grunts as he pressed into her, his hand holding her leg up around him. Her pants as she reached for the fly of his jeans.

"No," He broke away, gasping. "No, Max, can't do this."

"Wha- What?" She straightened slowly, her eyes wide in disbelief and unhappiness.

"No sex. Not 'til you get rid of the Ordinary." He turned away from her. So he didn't see her spring at his back, grabbing at his arm and swinging him around, pushing him back around her desk.

Alec was clutching convulsively at the arms of her deskchair when Logan came in.

"L… Logan?" He grunted, sitting up slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"You seen Max?" Logan asked, his eyes sweeping across Max's office. He smiled, 'cuz he was so telling Max when he found her that Alec was sitting at her desk in the darkness, probably thinkin' of ways to usurp her position.

"No," Alec said, eyes wide, squinting when Logan flipped on the light. "Probably out bitchin' at somebody," And then hissed, his teeth gritting together, his pupils expanding even further, if that was possible.

Logan's eyes snapped back to Alec, and his smile turned to a small frown of concern. "You okay?"

Alec's lips pressed together in a grim line. "Great, just… hurtin' a little from that fight with Mole." His eyes darted downwards.

"Listen, Alec-"

"Can we talk later?" Logan had never heard the man's voice so high before. It was kind of amusing. Probably embarrassed he'd been caught at Max's desk. Logan shrugged, turning to walk out.

"I'm going to kill you," Alec murmured, looking down at his lap, at Max's wicked eyes, gleaming up at him, as Logan was slipping out the door.

"What was that?" Logan paused, his voice hard in anger.

Alec's eyes swung back up to the Ordinary, and his voice was bland. "I said, when she comes, I'll tell her you were lookin' for her."

"Thanks," Logan nodded briskly, not sounding particularly grateful, as he shut the door behind him.

Logan paused in the hallway as he heard the deskchair crash to the ground and Alec's annoyed grunt, "Dirty fighting bitch!" Logan shook his head in annoyance. Now Alec was trashin' her office? Jeez. Why did the guy make it so easy for Logan to make him look bad? And whether he'd thought Logan would hear him or not, the guy had _threatened_ him. It was finally gonna be the end of the reign of the Golden Boy when Logan told Max; everyone would finally see him for the sociopath that he was. And if he could pull this 'mission' off by himself, Alec would be removed from the picture for good…

"What?" Max shrugged from her place on the cool cement beneath him. "Didn't hear you complaining."

"You could have stopped when Logan walked in," Alec grunted, pushing her pants and underwear away from her body. She toed off her shoes, kicked the material the rest of the way off of at least one of her legs as his hand moved between them, positioned himself at her entrance.

"Not even gonna get naked first?" Max smiled up at him, at the, once again, complete role reversal. "Besides… what happened to waiting 'til I broke it off with Logan?"

"I've waited a fucking year." Alec grunted. "What more do you want from me?"

"Just you," She replied softly. And gasped as his head dropped into her shoulder and his stomach tightened, and he surged forward and in to her.

"Well, look who's makin' the walk of shame, wearin' the same clothes as yesterday. Guess you found that cure Logan was nattering about after all." Mole sneered at her. "He was just lookin' for you, by the way."

Max's eyes widened and her head whipped towards Mole. Then back to Alec, just letting himself out of the hallway that led to Max's office. Mole's mouth dropped open; the cigar dropped from thin, loose lips and hit the floor, spraying embers across his black combat boots.

"Wait," Mole stuttered. "Wha-"

"Mole," Max said blandly, and couldn't help the slow smirk when Mole's eyes immediately snapped to her. "Shut up."

Mole glanced away from her hard gaze. Then snorted. "It's about damn time," And stalked off, a surprisingly jaunty spring in his step.

She had a feeling she knew why when Mole reached the stairs leading up to the catwalk. "Looogey-bear," Mole's amused voice filled Command. "I found Max for you."

Alec's fingers dug into her hip and she arched back in to him; couldn't help it.

"So, a cure?" His voice was hard. So was his grasp.

Like he expected her to run. And he wasn't going to allow it.

"Guess… Guess that's what that Eyes Only mission was about," Max's head craned up and back to look at him.

"Yeah. It was. But don't worry, I went by myself," Logan's hard voice broke into their enclosed world. His arm was outstretched before him, a vial filled with clear, amber liquid held in one steady hand. He waited for Max to break away from Alec, to remove herself from the intimacy that exuded from the two transgenics who were far too close for Logan's liking.

Max was reaching for the vial when his fingers dug, again, into that secret mark at the edge of her hip. She fell still, her arm dropping not because of some strange inferior instinct, but because the arousal was damn near paralyzing. Alec's other arm wrapped around her ribcage, under her breasts, and he pulled her back into his body. Logan's eyes widened.

"Send it off to the lab, first." Alec grunted, his eyes gleaming at the other man as he pressed the side of his face into Max's dark hair. "Not lettin' you kill my mate 'cuz you're blinded by the possibility of getting some."

"What happened to 'it's just politics,'" Max hissed in mortification, part of her realizing she should be more annoyed, when Logan stomped off, apparently too angry to string together a coherent sentance.

She could feel his smirk against the curve of her neck. "I'm a notorious liar."

And there was something there, hidden in his voice; a smug satisfaction and a secret guilt. She did break away, then, turning on him. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?" She accused.

Alec shrugged. "Be glad I overheard Logan talking to his contact yesterday before you made a huge mistake and slept with him. If you'd went around telling everybody that it was 'official', you'd have been pushed out of your position by the end of the week."

The desire to wail on him should have been growing by now. But she shifted, 'cuz-

"Christ," He hissed as she plastered herself to him.

"Get a room!" Came Mole's gleeful voice from the catwalk where the computers were kept.

Alec dragged her back into the hallway, back to Max's office.

"You didn't mention the part where I'd be super horny all the time," Max hissed as he laid her out on her desk.

"Claims don't make people horny," Alec smirked down at her, his eyes wicked. "That's all you, baby."

She forgave him for the use of the word 'baby' because she could feel him pressing in to her, and that was all him, too.

"I meant get a room somewhere else," Mole snorted when the sound of Max's muffled cries reached his ears.

The sudden alpha status that had people rushing and bending and scraping and following orders was phenomenal. It was almost as good as the knowledge that she could reduce one of the strongest males in T.C. to a quivering, foul-mouthed wreck, desperate for _her_. Which was almost as great as the sex in general, really. Which, on a good day, could even come close to the feelings that he inspired when he dropped all the innuendos, and commanding stares, and gruff pretenses and just curled behind her and held her tenderly.

Not that she liked that mushy crap or anything.

Really, she was just in it for the alpha status.

Yeah.

Alec's slow smile when she showed up on his doorstep, half her clothes and some lotions n' stuff thrown in a duffel 'cuz she spent most of her off hours over here anyway (whatever, it's no big deal, make me some cereal), inspired something warm inside of her. She collapsed into his couch, flicking on some cartoons as she heard Alec moving about the kitchen, pulling a bowl from his cupboard.

Just the alpha thing, she told herself as she traded the remote for the bowl and he collapsed at her side, his head pillowing on her thigh. That was all.

* * *

_B is for Ball_

_Rated T_

* * *

The only ones who'd been surprised that it'd turned into a make-out session was Max and Alec. A day later, when they told all of their friends, everyone else would insist that they'd seen it coming a mile away.

At the start of the night, Alec had been speechless for once. The slow warmth of feminine pleasure, so foreign, colored her cheeks. The hint of blush had turned his dumbstruck appearance… well… even more dumb. If that was possible. Before he shook it off and offered her a slow smirk.

"Maaaax." He drawled, circling her slowly. "The fairy tale look suits you." He ended up before her once more, his eyes dipping to the neckline… well… make that the _bust_line of the white and silver dress. They moved down for only a moment, noting in fascination how the full skirts made her waist look so tiny, before moving back up to what he thought was the most interesting part of the whole ensemble-

Max's mask popped him underneath the chin. "Eyes on my face, pretty boy."

He glanced up in thought. "I prefer the term… eyes on the prize." And his eyes immediately dipped back down to her breasts, lifted to precarious positions by the whale boning within the bodice.

The time, her heel dug into his foot.

"What are you even wearing?" Max hissed when he was done hobbling around in pain. "I told you we were going as a prince and princess."

He scowled at her, fingering the gilt handle of the rapier at his waist. "And I told you I wanted to be Zorro."

"You're not Spanish!"

"It's a masquerade ball, who the hell cares if I'm Spanish or not?!"

"Besides," Max sniffed, ignoring him. "I told you that there's no way I'd dress up like a prostitute."

His eyes dipped again, god, she'd find a way to wipe the smirk off his face if it killed her. "Yeah…" He said thoughtfully, his eyes roving across her flesh. "I could see how you'd-"

"Come on, guys, stop fighting." Asha plopped herself on Logan's couch, kicking green, belled shoes in boredom.

"What are you supposed to be?" Alec asked and Max was only slightly annoyed that he stopped looking at her so that his eyes could follow Asha's generous expanse of leg. Only slightly. She didn't care who he looked at.

Her elbow slammed into his ribs and Alec grunted, looking back at her and scowling.

"Tinkerbell," Asha answered, despite the fact that Alec was only half paying attention, and her eyes sparkled beneath the glittery, golden eyeshadow.

"Waitaminute," Alec frowned, turning back to her, his eyes widening. "If you're Tinkerbell, does that mean-"

Yes. Logan was going as Peter Pan.

Tights n' all.

Alec was in heaven.

Kill him. Right now. His life was complete.

"Stop laughing," Logan grunted, his arms folding in discomfort across his chest. "It's all the costume shop had left. Everyone already rented up all the good stuff for the Mayor's New Year's Eve masquerade ball."

Then his eyes glanced over Alec's billowy, opened white shirt. The black gloves. The… leather pants?

"What are you supposed to be again?" Logan demanded, controlling the tinge of green that wasn't supplied by his costume and that looked a whole lot like jealousy.

"Zorro," Alec reminded. And clasped the sword again. 'Cuz it made him feel all manly.

"But you two don't even match!" Logan protested, wishing Alec's costume didn't prominently display cut muscle quite so much, and that his own showed a little bit less of leg. "This is a couple's only event! You're supposed to match."

"I think he looks great," Asha smiled at Alec and Max ignored the urge to get annoyed. God. She wished the blonde would make up her mind already. Either she liked Logan or she liked Alec. Did she think she could have it both ways? Max slid in front of Alec, obstructing Asha's veiw.

"Besides," Asha continued, glancing at Logan. Max didn't get annoyed or block Asha's veiw 'cuz there was no way that even _she_ would be attracted to the older man in flesh toned tights and a short green costume. And Max was right too, 'cuz Asha looked away quickly and tried to peer around Max's billowy skirts at Alec's hidden form once more. "All Alec has to do is leave his hat here, put on the black mask, and he can be a bandit to Max's princess. It's kind of," Asha's smile became dreamy, her head cocked. "romantic," She finished with a sigh, staring off into space, undoubtedly imagining what Max's full dress was hiding.

Logan quickly changed the subject because really, somebody needed to be a spoilsport full time. "Max, don't forget, the best time for you to slip away will be at midnight when the ball drops and the fireworks start."

"Slip away?" Alec demanded. "In that dress?" Then he whirled on Max, his eyes narrowing. "Dibs on helping you get out of it."

"You can't call dibs on getting me naked!" Max hissed.

"You're right." Alec shrugged after a momentary pause. "It's not like anyone else is jumping at the chance."

Asha smiled into her hand as Max and Logan scowled. Oh lord, Alec was in one of _those_ moods. It was going to be a long, looong night. Max flounced away from her 'date', (so much more satisfying when you're wearing swishy skirts) and towards Logan's desk, doing her best to sit on the edge and not quite succeeding.

"You have the bugs for the Mayor's office?" Logan asked.

She nodded.

"Where?" He asked, his eyes flicking over her costume critically, his mind solely on the upcoming mission.

"Relax," Max huffed in annoyance, wishing her not-like-that boyfriend would be a little more appreciative of the romantic dress, the soft make-up, the elaborate hairdo, and less interested in the hardware she had hidden underneath. "This isn't my first time. I've got it all under control."

"Oh, the places my very dirty mind could go," Alec grinned, discarding his hat on Logan's couch. It woulda messed up his hair anyway.

The ride to the city limits, to Mayor Kane's usually enclosed, fortress-like mansion, was a quiet one. Except for the occasional 'get your poofy skirts back on your side of the car' and one or two 'god, would it _hurt_ you to look at my face?'

Logan handed the horrified valet the keys to Bessy before making his way up the steps, Asha on his arm. Max and Alec exchanged a disgruntled glance before she gingerly took his elbow (I don't have any diseases, he hissed. That's debatable, she hissed back) and they made their way up, waiting only momentarily as Logan handed off his invite for One Mr. Cale and Guests.

They both set off the metal detector. Alec for his sword, that was handed back after some terse talking between guards, and Max for what she insisted was the corset and the long pins holding her full, soft ringlets in place. There was no terse talking over Max, just some goofy grins as she got waved in. Sometimes being a girl was awesome. And so much for manliness, 'cuz Alec got annoyed with the way the thin sword kept swinging around and checked it in at the coat claim almost immediately.

"Ready?" He asked, slipping the black velvet mask down over his eyes as he turned to her.

"As I'll ever be," She shrugged, the pure white of her own mask being lowered.

"I think Logan's mask has glitter on it," He murmured in her ear and she resisted the urge to snort, because that was her untouchable boyfriend he was makin' fun of. Her untouchable boyfriend that got caught up in society and saw someone he knew in the entrance, and then someone else he knew, and he had to take his date along to introduce her, and now he was gonna be her _dead_, untouchable boyfriend 'cuz he'd left her alone with Alec to make their entrance into the ballroom.

God, the Mayor was stinkin' rich. Who even has a ballroom anymore? Pig, he was so obviously making money off the masses-

"Don't pretend like you're not enjoyin' this," Alec murmured as they paused at the top of the steps, taking in the high vaulted ceiling, the colorful crowd, the dancers moving across the marbled floors.

"I'm not," Max smiled, a bit hard, as he took her hand softly in his. "This is all business, Alec. Keep your head in the game."

There was no mistaking the way some eyes turned to follow them as they made their way down the red carpeted steps, Alec leading her with one gloved hand. No mistaking the way Max walked a bit softer, the way Alec stood a bit taller.

But that doesn't mean she was enjoying this.

Still... when Logan had first told her about the masquerade, Max had thought it would be boring. People milling around, wondering what to do with themselves. Really, the mood was quite festive as couples danced and spoke with strangers, anonymity loosening their tongues, and everyone tried to figure out who was who before the demasking at midnight.

Max avoided the dance floor. Kept to conversations mostly, and played the vacant arm candy. Tried not to get annoyed as a few men asked her breasts if they knew her from work, or from the Barrys' summer picnic, or from that charming little restaurant over in Sector Nine. Alec was a lifesaver, though. He broke in, spoke politics or hunting or shop (god, did he know everything about everything?) with the worst of the men, and chatted flirtatiously with the few women who'd given Max the jealous stink eye for more then who she was on the arm of.

Really, Max n' Alec were turning out to be quite the hit. Enough so that even the hostess sidled up to them at one point.

"So, what are you two supposed to be?" The Mayor's wife giggled up at him.

"Beauty and the Beast," Max replied in boredom, her eyes scanning the crowd from beneath the mask for the woman's erstwhile husband. He and his wife, being the hosts, were immune to the costume rule, and so he was easy to pick out, there by the punch… talkin' to Logan?

Logan was busting someone he was on fairly good public terms with?

Dang. Alec snorted to himself, following her gaze, mirroring her thoughts. That's cold.

"Beast, hmmm…" The woman made an appreciative noise in the back of her throat as her eyes moved over Alec's chest and both the young transgenics snapped back to the immediate conversation.

"No, no," Alec corrected. "I'm the Beauty." He gestured at Max. "_She's_ the Beast."

The mayor's wife (call me Estelle, she'd insisted) blinked at him for a moment in confusion. And then laughed. "Handsome _and_ charming," She wiggled her nose, her face scrunching playfully. "I could just _eat you up_."

Alec made a grab at a nearby champagne tray and downed the liquid while Max controlled the urge to make little gagging noises in the back of her throat. When Estelle's hand once again 'accidentally' brushed against the smooth expanse of Alec's chest, he turned to Max.

"Dance with me." And his eyes darting to a leering Estelle, he tacked on a desperate, "_please_."

"No way," She waved away his suggestion.

"_I'll_ dance with you,"

Alec's smile was nothing but charming. "That's quite alright, Estelle. My date here just likes to play hard to get." And Alec deposited his glass on the tray of a passing waiter, tugging her away from the garishly dressed woman in peacock colors, pulling her out to the center of the floor.

"Alec," She protested, dragged along behind him, terror building in her chest, climbing up her throat. "I said no!"

"Don't be a baby!" Alec huffed, not even glancing back at her. "I'm helping you out by bein' here, the least you could do is protect me from the cougars," He paused as they reached the center and looked at her horrified face and it all suddenly clicked. "You don't know how to dance, do you?" He asked, his voice soft.

"I know how to dance!" Her eyes darted around nervously.

"Not talking about club dancing, Max." He shook his head, incredulous. "I'm talkin' about the waltz."

Oh. Is that what this was? Her eyes followed the spinning dancers for only a moment before she turned back to Alec.

"And you do?" Max demanded, her eyes darting around the room once more and she saw Logan watching them, having abandoned his conversation with the Mayor. Guess they were kind of conspicuous, standing in the middle of the dance floor, talking.

"Just follow my lead," His arm circled her, steady. His hand clasped hers, firm. And Max stumbled a bit as he took his first sweeping steps.

"Relax," He hissed at her, as she scowled, staring down at her feet, willing them to _work, dammit_. "It's a pattern," He pointed out after about a minute had passed and her foot once more connected with the tops of his toes and he worried that they'd never work again.

Pattern? She glanced down.

Yes, it was, she realized and she did her best to follow him. Sets of three. Alec started on the right foot, so she-

"No, no, the woman leads with the left," He murmured and Max quickly adjusted.

She didn't know when it happened. Just knew that one minute her silvery heels were like bricks upon her feet and suddenly, the next, they were gliding.

"That's better," He smiled encouragingly down at her and she smiled back before she could help it. And he picked up speed and she controlled the laugh that threatened to erupt.

Everything was… perfect.

So, naturally, the person with no tact that hated fun and sometimes took control of her mouth just had to ruin it. "Did Manticore teach you this? For assassinations?" She demanded, immediately regretting it when his eyes darkened behind the black mask.

"Nope, my mom and dad scrimped and saved and paid my way through dance school," He smiled blandly, and just like that the warm connection was gone and it was like dancin' on a bed of nails once more.

The music ended, not nearly quickly enough, and Alec led her to punch, deposited her next to Logan, and disappeared into the crowd. He wasn't expecting her to follow him. Logan wasn't expecting her to leave his side. Max didn't usually like to do the unexpected when it came to the men in her life, but she just could not concentrate on Logan's attempts at conversation. She finally slipped away when Asha came up with someone else that had recognized the older man and was itching to talk about... dunno. Yachts, or something boring like that.

The night air was cool, the moonlight giving the snow an air of pristine grace. He didn't straighten from his lean over the balcony when her heels clicked against concrete. Really, he barely glanced at her as she leaned there next to him.

"You're gonna get cold out here," He said, and took a sip of amber liquid from a crystal tumbler. Leave it to Alec to find the hardest alcohol in a room full of champagne and start knockin' it back.

Max shrugged, eyeing the thin material of the loose sleeved shirt. "You're one to talk."

The strings were being tuned up for another round of music. It filled the lull in conversation nicely. Max sighed.

"Listen, Alec, about the dancing thing-"

"Of course it was Manticore that taught me how to dance," Alec grunted, barely even looking at her as he interrupted. "You knew before you even asked. Jesus, Max, it was part of Political Assassinations 101. Don't try and sound guilty for asking something you already knew the answer to."

It took Max a moment to realize he was being facetious about P.A. 101, but she got his drift. And she also got that it wasn't her question that was bothering him. Well, it might have started things off, but something else was eating him now.

"Alec… did you ever… I mean…"

He glanced at her, tumbler grasped loosely in long fingers. "Kill anyone? Max, I think that part is fairly obvious."

Part of Max realized she should huff in angry affront and get all self-righteous… but in the face of his vulnerability, could she really condemn him for what Manticore had forced upon him?

Her voice was gentle in the crisp night air. "Do you wanna… talk about it?"

"No," He sighed, placing down his glass and turning to lean into the railing, his head craning back to look up at the night sky, the twinkling stars.

Max turned as well, saying softly, "Fair enough."

His glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, before looking once more at the heavens.

"Maybe… maybe one day," He said after a long pause.

Max started in surprise, turning to look at him. "Alec-"

"Man, it's cold out here," Asha shivered, taking a sip from her champagne flute as she stepped on to the balcony, her eyes moving over them from behind the green, glittering mask. "Don't see how you guys can stand it,"

The two startled, moving apart, only just then realizing how incredibly close, and not fighting, they'd been.

"Only got about a half hour left," Logan said softly, stepping out of the ballroom and into the moonlight. His eyes glanced over Asha worriedly. It was a well known fact that the blonde could not hold her liquor. Then he glanced at Max and Alec. The somber air surrounding them filled him with a slight sense of worry. Just like Alec's costume. Or their dancing. Or their conversations; when they only had eyes for each other.

They barely even noticed when Logan led Asha's slightly wobbly form back into the golden lighting and soft warmth of the mansion.

"Guess we better get back inside," Alec's eyes moved over the soft curls framing Max's face. And did not get the urge to make fun of her when she glanced down at her hands, a gesture that seemed so vulnerable, so feminine, so out of place on her.

"Hey, Alec?" She grasped his arm, just for looks, really, as he led her back inside.

"Yeah?" His eyes darted towards her.

"Before we go…" The warmth of central heating broke over them and Max pretended like her next queston was no big deal. "Can you... show me how to do that spinny thingy?"

Alec smirked and it was weird how the simple addition of a black mask and an open shirt could cause that expression to make her heart thud faster.

"I can be persuaded."

They danced again. And the intimacy that the balcony had brought only brought them closer. It was like… floating. He swept her across the floor. Spun her around the room. She didn't even notice Logan's eyes, burning in jealousy, as he knocked back another glass of punch.

But when the clock struck twelve, the first bottle rocket whined through the air, and the familiar bars of Auld Lang Syne began to ring out, the spell was broken, and Max knew she had to get back to work.

"That his office?" Alec whispered behind her as they crept down the hallway, gesturing at the large, oak, double doors at the end of the corridor.

Really, they didn't have to creep, or even whisper, really, 'cuz everyone was down in the ballroom, shouting in festivity as masks were pulled off and faces were revealed and kisses were exchanged.

Up in Mayor Kane's office though, the mood was tense. There was no festivity. Masks were pulled off and faces were revealed but there was definitely no kissing. Just some hesitant awkwardness.

"You want me to put my hand _wher_e?"

"The wires are in a small bag strapped to my thigh," She explained like it was no big deal. "So, I'm gonna lift up my skirt and you're-"

"Are you crazy?!" Alec demanded, backing away from her. "Why can't you do it?"

"And how the hell would I do that?!" She retaliated. "Do you know how heavy and awkward these skirts are?"

Alec only continued to stare at her in flabbergasted horror and Max finally huffed in annoyance. "Come on, Alec, it's not like puttin' your hand up my dress hasn't been on your mind all night."

Alec's face was even more horrified and even though Max had meant it as a joke, now she was wondering if he really HAD been thinking about-

"Whatever, I'll do it myself." She rolled her eyes and collapsed back into the antique sofa. He could only watch in numb horror, sharp fascination, as silver strapped on heels were revealed, and then trim ankles, and slim, supple calves, and-

"Don't go any higher," Alec begged. "I'll get it."

Max blinked in confusion before shrugging, letting her skirts pause in their upward climb at her knees. Alec kneeled before her as she stood once more and his hand slipped under the heavy, full skirts, pretending not to notice the way Max was tapping her foot in nervous impatience.

"You'll need two hands to undo the strap," Max said.

Oh god. Kill him now. He sighed, pulling away slightly to pull the gloves from his hands, tucking them into his waistband, before turning back to the monumental task ahead of him.

His hands slid up her thigh, lessening the chance of an awkward over-shoot, and stopped as he felt-

"Is that a gun?" He demanded, his hand pausing at the holster strapped to her thigh.

"Yeah," Max's face colored slightly.

"You don't even do guns," Alec replied in horror, 'cuz he didn't know if there was anything hotter on the face of the planet then the turn his life had taken in the last five minutes.

"It's for you, stupid," Max rolled her eyes, "In case we get discovered, like usual, and we get shot at, like usual."

Alec grunted something that Max couldn't decipher, but that sounded pained, before his hands released her flesh. But in his haste to get to her other leg and for this whole thing to be over, the knuckles of his right hand brushed against the damp, silken fabric of-

Her breath caught in her lungs as Alec fell still.

"Max," Alec's voice rumbled out of his chest and his eyes slid slowly up to her pink face. "Max, are you _wet_?"

"No," She lied, her face deepening in embarrassment.

His knowing look annoyed her, just like his hot, hard fingers, digging into her thigh. "It's… not you," She covered. "Missions always get me tingly." Oh my god, did she really just say that? And how was _that_ supposed to make it better, she shouted at her brain.

"Remind me to go on more missions with you, then," He murmured and worked to undo the strap that held that thin black pocket to the outside of her thigh.

It was all too surreal. Nothing more was said as they worked in silence, placing the bugs around the room. They barely even looked at each other as they slipped out of the office and back downstairs to the party.

And paused in the foyer at the movement of green behind a large potted palm. And two green, sparkly masks, discarded next to the terracotta planter.

"Asha?" Max made a face. Then her eyes widened in recognition as she peered through the foilage. "Logan?!"

She remembered it now; she'd seen how Asha's eyes had followed Alec out as the music at midnight had begun. How the slightly tipsy woman had turned to look at Logan, who was busy downing another champagne, his eyes securely on Max until she slipped out the door.

"It was the alcohol," Logan would insist the next day, before Max turned on her heel and stalked out. Max would tell Cindy about the whole thing (well, most of the thing, she left out the sexy Alec parts) in angry affront.

"Girl, even I saw that one comin' a mile away," Cindy would shake her head sadly. Because when you're in a relationship with someone you can't touch, it was only a matter of time before someone reminded you of what you were missing and the dam broke.

"So, Logan and Asha," Sketchy would grunt as Alec gleefully told him. "Man, saw that one comin' a mile away. Logan gets all the chicks," Sketchy would follow it up with a huff, wondering what was wrong with the universe.

But for now, it was still night, Logan and Asha were passed out in the back of Bessy, and it was just Max and Alec.

"So, Logan and Asha," Alec shook his head, sitting on the concrete stoop next to her, wondering if they should just leave the two blondes there to sleep it off. Wondering if she realized she was undoubtedly getting the white of her dress all messed up by the dirty concrete steps.

"Guess I shoulda seen this comin' from a mile away," Max grunted, her chin burying in her arms as she stared moodily out at the grungy, snow blanketed streets of T.C. Her cheek turned to rest on her arm and she eyed him.

"You know," She finally said. "Leather pants is a good look for you."

Alec smirked, teasing, "Max… was that a compliment?"

"Dunno," She shrugged. "If I say yes, will you show me some more dances?"

"Why?" He asked, pausing in genuine confusion.

Her eyes darted around, unwilling to admit that she'd actually liked being swept around the floor in Alec's arms. "Dunno." She grunted. "Could come in handy… ya know… if we have to go to any more balls or dances or whatever."

"With Logan out of the picture," Alec said, ignoring the reappearance of Max's scowl, "I'm thinking the chances of us going to another-"

"Just humor me, okay?" Max huffed. "It's been a long night."

"You got it, Maxie." Alec shrugged, his shoulder just touching hers as they waited for dawn to break.

* * *

_C is for Cat_

_Rated T_

* * *

"Honey, you been doin' a lot of starin' lately, and O.C. be wantin' to know why."

Max frowned, looking away from the man that she'd been watching and slumped into the lockers. It crossed her mind that maybe she should be embarrassed that she'd been caught staring at Alec... but something else was tickling the edges of her brain...

"I'm just… curious." Her eyes darted back towards his leaning form before she could control it.

"Curious?" O.C.'s eyebrow arched. She followed Max's gaze before turning back to her friend in amusement. "…About... Alec? Sugah, please don't tell me-"

Max's face colored only slightly as she huffed, "Don't even! I meant curious about transgenics!" When O.C.'s face remained amused, Max scowled and she made sure the coast was clear before her voice lowered and she explained. "I mean… yeah, sure, okay, so we all got feline DNA, but what kind of feline?"

"Why don't you ask Logan?" Cindy shrugged. "Don't he usually figure these kinds of things out for you?"

Max bristled and OC winced, realizing how wrong, how right, the sentence had come out. Normal saved her with a shoved package and a 'Bip' and she'd never been happier to hear it as she booked a hasty retreat. O.C. wasn't stupid; her girl tended to run a little hot, and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of Max's irritation if she didn't have to be. She preferred when Alec got the brunt of it; poor little fake boyfriend whipping boy who was anything but and could more than take care of himself where Max was concerned...

Max scowled, well aware that her best friend was fleeing. But her irritation was only half-baked, because her eyes flicked again to the man leaning over the counter, flipping through Normal's papers while their boss wasn't looking. Max rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, flouncing over to him.

"Nothin'." He grunted, turning to lounge against the counter, shooting her a glance out of the corner of amused eyes. He smirked at one of the Jam Pony girls as they sauntered by, smiling wickedly at him, and he ignored Max's bristle to throw her a distracted, "What's it even matter? Sheath your claws, kitty."

Oh, hell no.

"What did you just say to me?"

Alec rolled his eyes, finally turning and giving her his full attention. "You're right. Kitty doesn't really fit in this situation; whereas bi-"

O.C. made a miraculous reapparance and pulled Alec away by his ear, the taller man protesting loudly, before the atom bomb of Max's anger leveled the place and took 'em all with it.

She immediately glanced through the papers, wonderin' what was so great about Normal's stuff, anyway. Eh. Nothing important. Guess Alec had just been curious. Just like a-

Her brain immediately diverted once more to its previous path as her eyes followed Alec's whining form out of the building. Cat. What kind of cats were they? House cats or wild cats? In the long run it didn't really matter, but the curiosity was overwhelming and once Max got somethin' in her head, she was hard pressed to ignore it. She remembered, vaguely, something about cats and curiosity and killing, but it probably wasn't anything important.

And yeah, O.C. was right; Max realized this was something she could set the considerable resources of Eyes Only upon… But for some reason, this was something Max wanted to figure out on her own. And there was only one man she spent time with round the clock… one transgenic that she had unlimited access to, to base her judgments upon…

And the more she watched him, the more she became sure…

Alec was a panther.

He pulled on the dark clothes for their newest mission before he slunk into the living room where Max was waiting. And though he had no shark DNA, he blended into the night, faded into the darkness. Crept with stealth down the darkened hallway, towards the room that could house the cure and the end of all Max's problems. But rather than focusing on that door at the end of the hallway, her eyes followed him; the silent, graceful, powerful lines of his body. Yeah. He could be a panther.

Alec was a lion.

After he finished up with the familiar, he followed the trail of their fight. The scent of her blood. Roared onto the scene. White's head snapped away from her bent, coughing form, in time to catch Alec's foot right in the middle of his chest. The man flew through the air, slammed into the wall, slid bonelessly to the ground. Max turned wide eyes up at the man standing tall over her, glaring at White's unconscious form. Alec glanced down at her, frowning, for only a moment before moving right past and paying her no more attention, focused solely upon the man upon the ground. She stood slowly, clutching her ribs, and her eyes wouldn't leave him; the way the light caught his hair, turning it almost blonde; caught the hard, solemn planes of his face as he stared down at White's unconscious form. Undoubtedly, Alec was a lion.

Or maybe he was a lynx.

There's something playful about the lynx. Something definitely playful about Alec, too, as he grinned at her, protesting his innocence. Of _course_ he'd never replace Logan's shampoo with temporary blue hair dye. Of _course _he hadn't told Asha that the older man secretly pined for her. Of _course_ he wouldn't go into the man's most heavily encrypted files, rearrange everything, and add lines of coding that took weeks for Logan to figure out, only to realize the encrypted message read simply 'blah, blah, blah, I'm a lonely old man that's got nothing better to do then send my ex-girlfriend into White's latest trap'... Suddenly all the pranks he'd been playing on Logan seemed to make more sense. Max tried to hold onto her annoyance at him, but… but Alec was such a lynx.

Alec was clearly a tabby cat.

He stretched slowly, arms overhead, curling his toes, yawning slightly. He curled back into the couch lethargically. Max paused in his doorway to watch him and he turned to look at her, blinking golden eyes slowly, his gaze heavy and shooting straight through her. He promptly dismissed her, turning back to the TV and the nap he wasn't trying to take but that kept creeping up on him anyway, making his lids droop lazily. She collapsed on the sofa next to him and he glanced again at her for a moment; let it be clear that he was kindly and graciously suffering through her apparently annoying and inferior presence before he twisted around, his head pillowed in her lap, and he promptly fell asleep. Her hands ran through his hair and she couldn't help the smile because, yes, he couldn't be anything other than a tabby cat.

Alec was a leopard.

Max walked into Crash in time to catch him trying to walk a girl out. She huffed and got pissy and shoved him into a wall. He pushed himself off the hard brick surface with a frown, all sleek muscle, and reminded her that they weren't actually dating; he could take anyone home when he damn well felt like it. Did she really think that just because they were in a fake relationship, he'd change his spots?

Alec was a cheetah.

He ducked out of the way of her fist, sped around the force of her kick, blurred out of the way of her grab. He wasn't trying to fight, and it made the need to hurt him grow in her chest. His movements were almost as fast as his tongue, taunting her, wanting to know why she cared, what did it matter anyway?

Alec was a tiger.

She got in one good, open-palmed slap across his face and he fell still. His shoulders dropped low and she couldn't look away from his intense gaze. He was readying to spring, but for the life of her she couldn't run; knew that running would only hasten the inevitable. His fingers curled into talons as he sprang at her, and Max barely suppressed the shriek. His fingers scraped over, around, her shoulders, his mouth crashed over hers, and Max melted into oblivion…

Alec was a cougar.

She hadn't seen him for a week; a week since Logan had caught them kissing in the alleyway and Alec had left her there before she'd even realized she didn't have to mindlessly explain herself to Logan because, theoretically, the older man thought she was dating the transgenic. Alec's strike was unexpected; She'd been stomping out of her building, suffering from a week-long bad mood, when he appeared from nowhere, leapt at her, caught her, and went in for the kill. His lips were every bit as soft as she remembered, an aching contrast to the hard force that he put behind the kiss. He cupped her ass, lifted her against him, and walked her back into the building she'd just walked out of.

Alec was something wild; he belonged to no one and took no crap. Alec was obviously tame; because he stayed by her side, and put up with her shit. Alec was something noble; at the end of the day, he fought for the things that were important. Alec was something irreverent; he could still make jokes and relax and just be a friend, even after pulling off noble daring-do's and rescues. Alec was a cat with his playful, teasing nips and wicked, wicked eyes. Alec was all man as he curled behind her and whispered in a harsh, embarrassed voice how he felt.

And all this because she'd been curious about cats. Because she'd taken the time to look at him. _Really_ look at him.

Cat. Man. Whatever. Alec was all Max's.


	2. D

A/N: Prompts are mine, but Nic is not the only one who's allowed to use 'em... as long as it's M/A. I couldn't stand it if they were used for evil; something like Mole/Logan or anything horrible like that (yes, I'm talking to you Molly). Like the first alphabet game (created by Nickledime17, remind me to restock the incense on my altar), my prompts are open to anyone who's got a muse for 'em. If I ever get through them all. Yeah. D, E, F will all be posted separately, 'cuz they're all pretty long, almost true one-shots.

* * *

_D is for Date_

Rated K+

* * *

"So let me get this straight…" Alec shook his head like he still couldn't believe it. "Logan proposed… and you turned him down?"

"We've been over this," Max scowled, pulling the worn sneakers over her socks.

Alec shook his head. Again. And finally came to the crux of the matter, "But… but why? What happened to true love?" He asked, shifting on the aluminum bench before adding helpfully, in case she didn't catch on, "…True love and happily ever after and bouncing babies on knees?"

"First of all," Max scowled, pulling her hair out from her shirt before standing and shoving her street clothes and her boots into her locker. "Babies? Where the hell did that come from?" She slammed the door, not bothering to lock it; in a city of transgenics, what's the point? No one would rifle through her stuff anyway. She stared hard at the closed door, asking, "With everything that's going on, can you see me with a kid?"

Alec paused thoughtfully, opening his mouth-

"Don't answer that," Max sighed and turned to him, leaning back into the lockers, looking down at the man still seated upon the bench "Secondly, think about it…"

Alec didn't want to think about it. The horrible reality had been bad enough, he didn't want to wallow in the memory as well; a perfectly good morning ruined by sauntering into Max's apartment (for his well-established ritual of bumming his morning cup of joe) only to find Logan on bended knee, grasping, tugging, at Max's hand, the question still fresh on his lips.

Blech.

Max had immediately kicked Alec out of the apartment, to, Alec had assumed, accept the older man's proposal. So imagine his surprise when Logan slipped into Command later that day, all quiet, austere dignity, and a defeated looking Max, no rock on her finger, followed shortly thereafter. And proceeded to hide herself in her office, away from all curious eyes… well, from Alec's curious eyes, as he was the only one that'd known what'd gone down that morning.

Funny, but Logan didn't actually look all that upset.

Anyway, the locked door of Max's office didn't surprise Alec; she was always horribly anti-social when she was distressed, not unlike himself, actually. He gave her a few hours before, like a true friend, he'd finally cornered her here, in the women's locker room over in the East Side gym, and was in the process of forcing it out of her.

Max sighed, plucking at the plain oversized t-shirt she was gonna work out in (and that Alec regarded as suspiciously familiar) before calming her hands, steadying her voice, and finding the words. "With Logan and me… it was never the right time,"

"So I've heard," Alec nodded and Max shot him a look and he figured if he wanted to hear the rest, maybe he should keep the comments to a minimum. Maybe.

"I mean, at first, I didn't even particularly like the guy, y'know?" The look of shock on Alec's face told her no, that he hadn't known. She conceded. "I mean, maybe there was a little something there, but mostly he was just supposed to help me find my family."

"In return for you helping him with Eyes Only, I gotcha." Alec nodded, like it all suddenly made sense. He'd always wondered why hoity-toity Logan had slummed around with street-punk Max in the reckless days of her (recent) not-so-law-abiding youth (if Cindy's far-fetched stories were to be believed). "Tit for tat. Eye for an eye." He paused, his expression turning playful, "So, would you say your arrangement was 50/50 or more of a 60/40?"

Another look from Max.

"70/30?" He asked, feigning shock. Wouldn't surprise him. Seems like all _he_ ever did was help out the noble and honorable Eyes Only and all he got in return was some lead. Lodged in his flesh. Or maybe that was from helping out Max. Whatever, she'd probably learned it from the great Logan Cale.

Max huffed in annoyance. "Do you want me to tell you or not? You shouldn't even be in the women's locker room in the first place, so no one would fault me for kicking your ass out."

He raised his hands in defeat. "Fine, fine, no more comments from the peanut gallery."

Max went for the abridged version, as Alec was obviously in one of his playful moods; like a cat, he'd just keep batting at her until she retaliated or started playing back, and she just wasn't in the mood. "Logan and I can't go from business partners, to not-like-that, to virus-infected, to _married_." The sudden exasperation in her voice told him how ridiculous she found the concept. "We've never even been a _date_ before. Not a _real _one; without some Eyes Only thing coming up or without the virus between us."

Alec blinked in shock. "That… might be the most intelligent thing I've ever heard you say."

Max snorted, bringing her foot up to the bench to tie her shoe. "So we're gonna fix it. We're going on a date tonight."

"And you just blew it."

"Shut up," She grunted, switching feet and making a quick knot of the laces before straightening and smoothing down her hair once more.

"So…" Alec stood slowly, frowning. "Is it safe to assume then that you've been virus free for a whole 24 hours and you two still haven't-"

Max's sudden grip on his collar jerked the words right out of him. "We're going on a _date_," Max announced, directly into his face, a little too close for his comfort. "He's gonna pick me up later and we're going on our very first date. And with or without sex, it's going to be _perfect_."

Alec blinked in confusion. "Are you telling _me_ that or yourself?"

Max released him, sighing. "Whatever, go get dressed Pretty Boy and meet me on the mat."

Alec shrugged, surprisingly blasé about his upcoming role as the punching bag in Max's life. He whistled as he walked out, pausing only slightly to smirk at Widget, blinking at him in confusion, shirt halfway up her abdomen.

"Alec!"

Roll of the eyes. "Yeah, yeah, Max, I'm goin'."

Less than twenty minutes later, he'd ask conversationally, while dodging a punch to the head, "So, where ya goin'?"

"Dunno, some French place," Max sucked in a breath as his elbow glanced lightly across her ribs; too close.

"French?" Alec grunted, as her fist glanced across his own ribs, too light to actually hurt. He dodged under her foot, coming up a good few feet away from her, "Trust me, Max, you're not gonna like French,"

"How would you know?" She scowled, pausing slightly, barely even winded despite the fact that her hair was beginning to stick to the sides of her face.

"'Cuz _I_ don't like French," He grinned, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet, keeping his blood pumping, his attention sharp.

Max rolled her eyes. "News flash, Pretty Boy, I'm not you,"

Alec shrugged. "So you say," He ducked out of the way of her sudden assault before popping back up and saying thoughtfully, "I thought Logan didn't have that kind of money anymore," And subsequently caught a foot right on the inner thigh. "Hey!" He looked up at her, glaring, letting her know how totally out of bounds her foot had almost gone. How'd that saying go? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…

Max shrugged, smiling as she ignored his indignation. "First date. He says price shouldn't matter." Max's eyes widened at Alec's sudden charge; the wind was knocked from her lungs as he barreled directly into her and they both went tumbling to the ground.

"When's he picking you up?" Alec demanded. Max struggled against his pin, but his larger hands caught her wrists and he pressed his body down into hers; no way he'd be letting her get a knee in.

"What's with the twenty questions?" Max demanded, suddenly uncomfortably aware that their position, with Alec between her legs, might not look so socially acceptable. And that she hadn't had a man's weight on her since- "Logan's _finally_ cured and instead of acting happy for me you're acting like some protective older brother, which, I gotta say," Her head cocked to the side, and a smirk bloomed, "Totally doesn't work for you."

Alec just watched her, that damn neutral expression of his even more annoying than his earlier teasing had been. God, what was his problem?

Her eyes suddenly narrowed and her struggles ceased. "Oh, wait, I get it…"

His chest pressed against hers; she felt his heart pick up just a hair. His face so close; she watched as his pupils widened just a fraction. _Alec_ so totally surrounding her; she could almost taste it on the air; Fear. But his voice was ice cold and gave away nothing. "Do you?"

"You still think I'm a danger to him, don't you?" She demanded, her head relaxing back into the blue mat, her hair fanning around her. "That we don't belong with 'Ordinaries' or something stupid like that."

He shrugged, relaxing slightly, his grip loosening only marginally. "I didn't say anything."

"You don't have to," She scowled, "I can read you like a book. You're practically vibrating fear, so you're either A, reliving Rachel memories, or B, you think I'm gonna kick your ass again for saying something stupid." Her head cocked to the side once more and her eyes narrowed, and if she hadn't brought up Rachel, she might have added a smirk. "Although it's probably a combination of the two."

Alec's genuine smile caught her off guard and she had to blink to make sure she was seeing clearly. And by the time her eyes had cleared, the illusive vision was gone. "Wow, Max, after all this time I'd think you'd know that your threats to kick my ass? Well, they don't exactly keep me up at night." He was smirking, a more familiar expression, and his grip was still loose. Max rolled her eyes, breaking the hold easily, flipping them to their sides and kicking his shin for good measure. He scowled, twisting to his back and sitting up easily, rubbing at his shin. "Besides, you'll do what you wanna do in the end no matter what I say. Marry Logan. Don't marry Logan. Either way, Logan is all you're capable of seeing. You wanna play Susie-homemaker in a make-believe world, that's your business,"

He pushed himself to his feet with that fluidity and grace that she often saw the younger X's trying to emulate. She sat up more slowly, wondering when the conversation had taken a turn down an unpredictable path that, rightly, she should be more pissed off about. But she just didn't have the energy. Or… well, she was tingling with energy from their fight, but she was still too vaguely amused to be annoyed at him.

He turned as he got to the edge of the mat, his expression playful once more. "Twenty bucks says he proposes again tonight."

Max looked doubtful.

"Trust me, Max. You'll both be dressed up, in a ritzy restaurant, the music will be going and you'll think; gee, isn't this romantic. And _boom_," He shook his head, like it was so obvious, "Ring, right in your face,"

Max started to argue, "I already told him-"

"Something tells me that the former heir of Cale Enterprises is used to getting what he wants," Alec interrupted.

Max just sighed, well aware that she could live to be a hundred and she still wouldn't understand men. Or maybe she'd just never understand Alec. She sighed, still seated upon the ground. "Don't page me after 7, okay? I'll be busy."

"Wouldn't dream of it," He said blandly. Then ruined it by winking and she was forced to wonder if he WOULD page her, just to be annoying. "And by the way, I'm gonna need my shirt back when you're done with it. I don't even wanna know how you got it in the first place,"

Max was really tempted to shout after him, to draw him back into their world of fire and fighting... but, instead, she took a calming breath as he sauntered off in search of someone else to spar with.

Now was not the time for another fun round of "The Ways in Which Alec Knows All the Right Buttons to Push." Or even for "What the Hell is Alec Thinking Now?" She pushed herself to her feet. Now was the time for shopping. She needed a dress. And make up. Tonight was going to be perfect. If Max had to KILL someone, tonight was going to be fan-frickin'-tabulous.

Alec did page her later that day, but only to tell her in a noticeably detached voice that the X-6's were acting up again. Boredom with super-smart teenagers generally turned into rowdiness and creative hijinks. Last time Dalton's crew had gotten restless, it'd taken an hour for them to clean the last of the superglue off of Logan's keyboard. (It'd only actually taken them about 15 minutes to disconnect Logan from said device, with minimal skin loss). Max told him to deal with it, ignoring his huff of annoyance, because she had enough on her plate; dealing with all the damn make-up and the curlers without O.C. to help her.

Seven finally came around and the knock came and all the struggling and the hairspray and that medieval torture device known as a lash-curler paid off because Logan was appropriately speechless as she spun for him in the sparkling, midnight blue dress, the dress that'd cost her an arm and a leg but that set off her skintone perfectly. And he was wonderfully gallant as he offered her his arm and escorted her down the steps of her building…

And she pretended like she wasn't struck by the marked difference between the way they were dressed and the dilapidated nature of the building, the crumbling concrete of the stoop, the- water balloon hit Logan almost directly on the top of his head.

Max jumped away from him, barely missing the spray of liquid as it arched hungrily towards her new dress. She looked up the face of the building and saw nothing, but she was almost certain she heard the snickers of the teenaged hooligans that she knew must be up on the roof.

"You guys are on KP duty for the rest of the month!" She shouted at the rooftop. And deftly stepped out of the way of the balloon that arched over the side of the building and headed towards her. She watched in disinterest as it exploded against the dirty, cracked sidewalk before scowling upwards once more. "Make that two months, Dalton!"

She turned to Logan, frowning, "Are you okay?" Then huffed in annoyance, "I told Alec to take care of them, but-"

Logan interrupted, like he didn't want Alec even mentioned on their first date, and given that Alec and their pretend-relationship had only recently come to light, maybe the fact that Logan was still sore about it all was a bit understandable. "Don't worry about it," He shrugged in that typical calm, classiness of his, that Max both looked up to and envied and wanted to smack him for. He didn't even seem that upset when she'd turned him down; he'd accepted it with that warm understanding of his that sometimes made her want to rant and-

He opened the door for her before slipping out of his drenched suit jacket and tossing it in the back, behind her seat, revealing his perfectly dry, white button-down. "Not gonna let a little water ruin our first date," He smiled at her and proffered her his hand.

Max smiled as he graciously helped her into the car. Logan was always so put together. Didn't seem like anything (short of finding her walking out of her apartment with another man) could faze him.

Rough start. No problem. The night would get better.

"So where are we going? There's only two French restaurants in the city." She knew, 'cuz she'd spent all morning looking it up. One was a little romantic hole in the wall. The other catered to society's elites.

"That's a surprise." He smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. It spiked boyishly, almost charmingly, which was no surprise. Logan knew how to make even getting hit by a water balloon turn to his advantage.

The restaurant, though, was a surprise. She thought for sure he'd take her to the small, romantic one... He took her to the one that was practically gilded from ceiling to floor. That you could practically fit a football field in. The seats were padded with rich red velvet. The room was awash in the glow of both candlelight and the bright bulbs on the dozens of crystal chandeliers. Logan told her the name of the place, but the sensory overload made her promptly forget.

What was French for small portions, high prices, and snooty waiters? 'Cuz that's what the place should be called, Max decided twenty minutes later, when they were finally seated and she was watching the people around her. The music didn't drown out the sound of tinkling glass and forks scraping expensive china, or the din of babbled conversation in sensitive, transgenic ears. Everywhere she looked, she saw jewelry that, once upon a time, her hands would have itched to come across. She felt... out of place. She snapped open her menu... and spent the greater part of ten minutes avoiding awkward, stilted attempts at conversation by looking at the prices in scandalized horror. That much money… just for an appetizer?

Logan must have caught her mood, because he smiled and grasped her hand only moments after she'd set down the menu. "Max, this is our very first date. I don't want price to matter,"

And price shouldn't matter… but she thought of struggling to find ways to feed everyone, clothe everyone, each day a gritty repeat of the last. Guilt gripped her, and she thought of Alec, headin' to Josh's tonight, for his umpteenth meal of macaroni n' cheese and li'l, li'l hotdogs. And annoyance promptly followed the guilt, not for thinking of Alec on her date, but for where she was and what it represented. She thought of the transgenics she struggled to feed. And she thought of Jam Pony workers, barely able to make ends meet, and the penniless in the streets of Seattle… This press of high-classed humanity, so oblivious to the outside world and the real goings on…

"Max?" Logan frowned.

"I'm fine," She smiled slightly. "It's nothing." And she downed her glass of wine to prove it.

This is where Logan had grown up. This is what he was used to. This is what he railed against, later in life… And she respected him for that on a whole new level. She told herself to try harder for the rest of the date and set her glass down, intent on focusing upon him.

"So," Logan finally chuckled, almost nervously, a touch awkward, and she was reminded of that night, so long ago, that window of oppurtunity that they'd failed to use, the night they'd struggled for words over some pasta. His hand felt stiff over hers, warm. With sudden clarity, Max remembered the heat of Alec's hands on her wrists, burning a fire through her skin. She pulled away from Logan and poured herself another glass.

"Woah, take it easy," Logan blinked, nervousness suddenly gone.

"Transgenic, remember?" She waved it away, attributing the warmth in her stomach not to the memory of Alec's body pressed against her, not to the small swell of indignation at Logan's easy, commanding protectiveness, but to the wine hitting her empty stomach.

"I got a new lead on the Bolshevik case," Logan changed the subject deftly.

Max sighed and set the wine glass down.

"What's wrong?" He sighed in response.

"I don't want to talk shop on our first date," Max attempted a smile and reached for his hand once more. "I wanna talk… you know… about us… and date-y type stuff."

"You mean," Logan smiled crookedly, "like, where do you see yourself in ten years and stuff like that?"

Max blinked. That wasn't exactly anything she'd discussed on a date before. Usually it was stuff like rap, hip-hop, or rock? Aliens or Predators? Your place or mine? But then again, most of her dates had been Heat inspired… Dammit. She so didn't know where to go from here. What had she and Logan talked about BEFORE the virus?

Oh.

Right.

Eyes Only missions and finding her family. Had they ever talked outside of those topics, besides for the occasional bullshitting?

Max stalled her hand halfway to the wineglass and forced it into her lap instead.

Logan cleared his throat gently and Max blinked, coming back to reality. Logan was still smiling softly at her. "So, Max? What do you think? Where will we be ten years from now?"

We.

Plural.

Us.

Not you. Where will WE be?

And it hit her with a terrible certainty.

Married. Two kids and a dog. She's traded in her Ninja for a SUV. He's fighting crime and she's running missions for him inbetween, undoubtedly, breastfeeding the newborn 'cuz that's what all their parenting books say to do and playing Susie-homemaker. T.C. and the transgenic crisis and the end of the world will hopefully be resolved by then, and if not, he'll still be by her side, helping out where he can, her loving, supportive husband. He'll smile when she's right and he'll still love her when she's wrong and he'll never shout, but patiently explain himself until she comes correct. It'll remain the most mature relationship she's ever experienced. Alec will have settled down. He'll be mated, 'cuz he won't go for the whole 'marriage' thing, he thinks the intent will be enough 'cuz he's never quite found the words to tell the woman how he feels; maybe it'll be someone like Widget, playful, pretty, sweet, kind, patient. And Max will look at him from the trappings of her warm life and she'll wonder where the heat went, where everything went so wr-

"Did it just get hot in here?" Max fanned herself, shifting uncomfortably.

"No." Logan frowned.

Max shifted again. "Just got claustrophobic all of a sudden." She muttered, reaching for the wine. Logan beat her to it and she scowled. He watched her, unblinking, before slowly pouring her a half-glass.

She looked at that half-glass, at her life, meted out by the man at her side that she couldn't even find the words to make conversation with outside of Eyes Only missions or T.C. problems or-

Her stomach rolled unhappily. Her mouth was dry but she found herself unable to drink from the glass he'd filled for her.

"I'll be right back," She excused herself and headed swiftly towards the bathroom, wending her way around white linen covered tables and smiling faces and the noise that swallowed her heartbeat. For a moment, she thought she might be sick, but no, it was just nerves. The cool air of the bathroom cleared her head and she stared hard at the stranger in the mirror.

She couldn't splash her face with water because her face was caked in make-up. She couldn't run a hand through her hair because it would ruin the elaborate curls she'd worked so hard on. She couldn't… She couldn't breathe. This stupid dress was too tight and-

She took a calming breath, resisted the urge to find the nearest payphone and punch in the numbers she knew by heart and tell Alec... tell him to come get her... But instead, she told herself that it was just first date jitters. She just wasn't used to this kind of environment. But if this was part of Logan, and as Logan was something she wanted, then this was something she'd learn to handle. It's not like Logan was in this kind of setting all the time. He didn't even really _like_ these society snobs…

But for someone who didn't like them, he sure did fit right in…

It was a first date. She was over-analyzing because her nerves were shot and she was overworked and stupid Alec had made her nervous with his insistance that Logan would propose again and she simply refused to let any of those things blow her first date with the man of her dreams. Square pegs would fit into round holes if you had a big enough hammer, and dammit, Max was gonna find a way to make this work.

Her stomach flopped on her return to the table when her eyes zeroed in, across the room, watching as Logan slipped a black velvet box back into his pocket. Good thing she hadn't made that bet. Guess Alec would have won.

"I ordered the appetizer," Logan smiled as she crossed the remaining distance, pretending for all the world like he hadn't just pocketed a diamond ring engraved with their names. The same ring she'd turned down that morning, because she just wasn't ready.

"Really? Something good?" She made a face, reverting to her 'cute girl' routine, 'cuz it was so much easier.

Logan smiled, his eyes glinting in playfulness. Max was hit with a sudden sense of dread, but pushed it to the side. Ah well, how worse could the night get?

Max was humiliated. She didn't want to see anyone ever again. And she didn't want to even LOOK at a French restaurant for as long as she lived. And speaking of French… Alec called Josh after banging on her door had no effect, apparently not being annoyed enough to bust through the lock. Joshua finally sweet-talked his way around the barricade and into her apartment... only to back out again in horror.

"It's called Escargot," Max would tell him, miserable, ignoring her beeper's shrill cries.

"Bug is bug!" Joshua would make a face, backing further away, insisting he could smell the appetizer that Logan had (supposedly) 'jokingly' ordered and she had jokingly attempted to swallow. And maybe Josh _could_ smell it because after swallowing the little slimeball, the combination of it, the wine, and her nerves all churned together in a glorious medley… and she'd promptly vomited into Logan's lap. The date, that'd started on a shaky leg to begin with, had broken wide open after that. She'd never been so embarrassed in her entire life.

How would she ever look Logan in the face again?

"C'mon Max," Alec patted her back awkwardly as she stared blankly out the window. "There'll be other chances,"

Max turned her back on him and went to her room, slipped out of the dress that she'd spent all her savings on, and spent the night curled up on the couch in the most comfortable pair of sweats she could find, moping, ignoring Alec's attempts to cheer her up and all of Logan's pages.

"Just talk to him, Max," Alec said, slightly groggy, close to three in the morning. He was getting tired of that shrill beep. Kept waking him up just as he was about to drop off. For an Ordinary, Logan sure could stay up late.

"How can I ever look at him again?" Max shook her head.

"How can you not?" Alec grunted, rubbing tired eyes with his knuckles. "He's at Command almost every day."

Logan forgave her. Of course he did. Even chuckled a bit about it, if a little distastefully. Even attempted a joke, "Hey, at least you didn't get any on your dress. Then you'd have to go steal another one."

She didn't talk to him for an additional day.

He finally cornered her in her office. Alec shot her a look as he slipped out the door, leaving them alone to talk, and for some reason, Max was vaguely reminded of the sparring they'd done the other day, and the fear that'd surrounded him. But Logan was talking and brown eyes snapped back to blue and she caught his words just as he was promising the next date would make up for it, and he'd let her choose, and-

"Logan, were you going to propose again?" She asked softly.

The words died in Logan's throat, his mouth hung open for a moment before closing gently, and there was a long, telling pause. Like maybe he was wondering if she was asking him to ask her again.

"I mean," She ran a hand through straight hair, hoping to avoid that possibility, "If that night had ended up better. If we'd had a real date, with good conversation, and good food, and, I dunno… maybe headed back to your place…" She glanced away. "Would you have proposed again?"

"I might have," His voice was wary, like he was unsure of what she wanted to hear. Did she want him to say yes, he loved her enough to propose until he got the answer that he knew would make them both the happiest in the long run? Or did she want him to say no, he loved her enough to respect her first turn-down?

She just wanted him to be honest.

When no more answers were forthcoming, they just watched each other for a long moment, and tried to ignore the crumbling of two years worth of dreams. Dreams that maybe didn't translate so well into reality.

"There'll be other dates," She finally said, unsure.

"Yeah," He agreed, doubtful.

The other dates were, as follows;

One night at Crash, where Logan promptly pulled out his notebook, like usual, because heaven forbid he ever NOT work. Plus, he'd never liked the press of crowds, the blaring hip-hop, and truth be told, he wasn't really a fan of beer. Give him a nice merlot, some soft jazz, a quiet night in… Max was all for romance, but c'mon, a girl's gotta party _occasionally_. Alec and Cindy showed up a few moments into another attempt at talking about something other than work and pulled up two stools and pretended to not notice the way Max was glaring at them as Alec cheerfully told Logan that he could refill their pitcher. Cindy just shook her head.

"Sorry, Sugah," Cindy leaned in, "I told him to leave y'all alone," She shrugged, 'cuz they both knew dissuading Hot Boy from his chosen path was like trying to teach a pig some manners; everyone would get messy, but only the pig would enjoy it.

Cindy left it unsaid that she'd finally let Alec drag her over because it didn't look like Logan and Max were doing much talking anyway. 'Cuz Cindy wasn't stupid and getting Max all pissed off wasn't in her plans for the evening.

Then there was the art show. Max lost interest quickly and Logan would demand on the car ride home if she'd been casing the joint, because that narrow-eyed interest didn't exactly look wholesome. She pulled her hair out from the tight bun, stretched in the suit that made her feel all hemmed in, and shrugged.

"What's that?" Alec asked in interest, peering at the schematics, later that evening.

"Nothing," She hissed, whisking the map away from his prying eyes. One Renault could pay for more than enough milk to float all of T.C. away. She refused to feel guilty, and that was final.

"Can I help?" Alec snatched the map from her grasp.

Max frowned at him for a long moment.

"I guess," She grumped.

Next was the motorcycle show. Logan tried to look interested as she explained the differences between Kawasaki and Suzuki, but though he caught on quickly to the technical terms, he just didn't much understand her fascination with bikes. Bessy was safe, reliable, dependable. Just like him. Alec had shown up with the Bandit and enough spare cash for new parts that Max was suitably nervous and followed him around, demanding to know where he'd gotten the money.

Logan cut out early when it became clear that Max and Alec were going to spend the rest of the day arguing the finer points of fuel injection. Max ended up spending all of Alec's money for him. Alec complained the rest of the week about women always burning through his dough. Max pretended that she couldn't tell he was pleased.

After that, there was the play. The most interesting part, Max thought, was when a prop malfunctioned, almost setting the lead actress on fire (she looked vaguely like Widget, Max noted gleefully) and the actors had to regain their bearings… The rest just dragged. Logan tried to explain to her the parallels between the plotline and modern life and the ridiculousness of entrenched societal values. Yeah, sure, she got it, but satire was officially not her thing.

"Satire?" Alec grunted, stretched out on his couch, watching some TV. "Story of our lives, Maxie." His eyes glanced over the form-fitting jewel-colored dress, and she warmed at the glint of appreciation that he covered up by turning back to the TV and making some sexist remark about the dancers in the video.

"I think irony might fit our situation better," She muttered, sinking into the worn cushions next to him.

She chose a movie for their next date. Not a real movie. Their theatre was the courtyard of one of the crumbling apartment buildings deep within T.C.. Widget had gotten her hands on an old projector. Josh had strung up a large white sheet. It was supposed to be just her and Logan, but how could she deny Big Fella a chance to see a movie? And Widget had stuck around, and Alec had shown up, supposedly looking for the technically minded blonde, before deciding to hang around for the film that Max had found in some vault. It didn't actually surprise her that he stuck around; Alec was all about cheesy movies. Actually, it was a pretty good movie, even Logan agreed to that. Lots of explosions, not much gunplay, and just enough romance to quell that weird girly side within herself. It could have been a great date… If it weren't for the fact that Max spent most of her 'date' with Logan trying to hold her popcorn bag away from Alec's greedy little fingers.

"You ever notice how Alec shows up to the dates that you pick," Logan asked suspiciously, one day. Like he thought maybe she was setting it up that way.

"We… just have a lot in common," Max said slowly, like she herself had only recently discovered that fact.

Logan continued to glare, before letting his suspicion melt away.

"You ever notice how you dress up like you're something that you're not for Logan's dates?" Alec asked, stealing coffee from over her sink.

"No one asked you, Alec." She pulled the comb through her wet hair. "Besides, what even brings that up in the first place?"

"It's Friday; tonight is date night." Alec pointed out. "Just makin' conversation..." He whistled tunelessly for a few minutes, before asking, "So, where you guys goin' tonight?"

"Dunno." Max let the comb clack to the countertop and pulled her bathrobe tightly around her frame. The first rays of morning glanced across his brown hair, turned it almost blonde for just a second. She watched, almost entranced, before shaking herself out of it and frowning. "It's Logan's turn to pick,"

"Please, Max," Alec said drolly, measuring out _her_ coffee grounds into _her_ coffeepot. "Try to add _a little_ enthusiasm, will you?"

Then he paused, looked askance at her, and asked quietly, "Has it ever occurred to you guys to choose where you're going _together_?"

Her mouth went dry and she was finally forced to look away. "Together? Please, Logan n' I would never be able to agree on where to go,"

"So, I've decided where tonight's date should be," He smiled softly, leaning down next to her. Luke politely excused himself. Alec didn't do polite, just snorted and kept working on the program at the computer terminal.

"Where's that?" Max tried to work up a little enthusiasm, straightening from her lean over the back of Alec's chair.

"Chez Cale," Logan smiled. "A little pasta, a little wine, some music and candlelight…" He trailed off.

Max blinked. The world slowed before crashing to a halt. She could no longer hear the clack of keyboard keys behind her. The night and its inevitable conclusion flashed through her mind. "Sounds… great…" She managed, and with sudden clarity the last few weeks flashed through her mind and she knew what would happen that night. She straightened and nodded, slowly. "I... can be there around eight…"

She ignored Alec's biting words as he swiveled to face them. "So, tonight's finally the night, eh? Almost two months later, and you guys are finally gonna do it-"

"Not now, Alec," Her mouth was dry and she rushed down the steps, retreating from the situation and the sudden churning in her stomach that reminded her of snails and expensive suits and horrified waiters. She kept on walkin', right by her office, deciding that cutting out from Command early might be a good thing; she needed to mentally prepare herself for the evening's activities.

She wore something appropriate for the situation. She brushed her hair out carefully. She ignored Alec's endless pages, which, really, was quite unlike him. After careful thought, she left her pager sitting on her bed, because she really didn't want any interruptions. She spent a good twenty minutes just staring at her reflection, telling herself that this was what she wanted, that this was the only thing that made sense.

"You're… you're breaking up with me?!" Logan demanded again.

Max's arms folded protectively under her breasts, against the heavy material of the turtleneck. She shifted, her combat boots squeaking slightly on the spotless tile of his kitchen floor.

"I'm sorry," She repeated. Then added, after a moment, trying to make him _see_. "It's just not working, Logan. _We_ don't work. We don't have anything in common!"

"We have plenty in common." Logan argued.

"Yeah," Max snorted, "Our jobs."

It's amazing how freeing breaking up with someone can be. She suddenly didn't feel the need to tip-toe around his feelings like she had when they'd been under the influence of the virus and she'd been a threat to his life.

"Max," Logan shook his head again, still calm. "Let's just sit and talk about this. I have dinner all ready and-"

"And the sheets turned down and the ring waiting on the nightstand," Max said softly, controlling her voice, controlling the anger. "Sorry. I peeked, just to be sure."

Logan deftly changed the subject. "You really came all the way across town to break up with me?" He asked softly.

Annoyance flared. Why did he have to be so goddamn soft all the time. Why couldn't he yell at her and call her out when she was a bitch and tell her when she was toeing the line? Why couldn't he be- "Alec?!"

"What?" Logan demanded, in his first sign of life that night. "What's Alec go to do with-"

"Max," Alec nodded from the doorway.

She didn't bother to ask how he'd gotten in through the locked front door. He'd probably make some smart-ass remark about fairies or something stupid like that.

"Alec, what are you doing here?" She demanded.

"Just seeing what you two are up to," He said nonchalantly. "Smells good. Is that some good, down-home Italian cooking or does my transgenic nose deceive me?"

"We're kind of in the middle of something," Max ground out.

Alec shifted.

And frowned.

And scowled.

"Well, I'm sure you can put the world-rocking on hold for two minutes while I'm here," He grouched.

"Alec,"

The darker haired man ignored the mildly confused and slightly annoyed blonde over by the stove. "Max, we really need to talk,"

"Now?" Max demanded.

Alec nodded and took two steps towards her, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her, protesting, from the house.

He released her arm and paced back and forth on the worn wood of Sandeman's front porch for a few moments, ignoring the way that she rubbed her wrist, not because it'd hurt, but to remove the heat that'd seared her skin at the touch of his fingers. She was about to start shouting when he finally turned angrily on her. "You can't sleep with him,"

Max blinked in surprise. Then scowled in righteous indignation. "What the hell do you mean I _can't_ sleep with him? I can sleep with whoever the hell I want!"

"You… You just can't!" He argued, still frowning at her like he'd just caught her red-handed killing some kittens with a cheese grater.

"Why the hell not?!" She demanded

"Because I said so!"

"And since when have you been the boss of me?" She responded, angrily.

"News flash, nobody's the boss of you," He grunted.

"Damn straight!" She agreed.

"But maybe they should be," He kept arguing, "Because obviously you can't see what's right in front of you!"

Max paused, her cheeks still flushed with color.

"Max, you and Logan just don't _work_." Alec finished, almost lamely, almost desperate.

She blinked for a few good moments. Before asking in confusion. "You came all the way across town to tell me that?"

Alec colored slightly under his freckles. "Well, that and to tell you that Dalton celebrated his early release from toilet duty by covering Logan's work station with all the molasses that just came in."

Annoyance was followed swiftly by amusement. And then suspicion. Max glared at him. "Really? That's the only reason you dodged policemen, angry protestors, and flaming X's? Because Dalton was once again working out some inexplicable aggression towards Logan and you coudn't wait until tomorrow to tell me?"

"I think Dalton's beef with Logan is partly my fault," Alec finally muttered, ignoring most of her statement. "The kid looks up to me and for some reason he thinks that Logan-"

"Is a threat to you?" Max had a hard time covering the mirth, catching on quickly. "Because the little runt thinks we should be together or something? I hate to break it to you, Alec, but you and Logan are on completely different playing fields."

Alec's face went neutral so suddenly, Max had to go back and rethink what she'd just said. Alec didn't even say anything, just whirled and began walking way. She caught his hand again and there was the heat, that she'd always felt so strongly. That she'd noticed when they were sparring. That she felt when they were fighting. That was just always there in general, really.

"You're both good men," Max said softly to his back. And she left it at that, embarrassed, and uncomfortable, and unsure how to explain how they were both good, just different…

Alec looked back, looked down at her hand, clasping his wrist. Turned to look at Sandeman's house, and at Max, looking at him in a weird, soft way that he wasn't entirely sure how to interpret. "Max…"

"Remember when we sparred, right after I turned Logan down?" Max interrupted.

"Yeah," He frowned. "What about it?"

"You got scared, remember?"

He was wary again. His whole body tensed in defensive readiness, an almost imperceptible change that she wouldn't have spotted if she hadn't spent the last few months practically glued to his side.

"I thought it was because you were thinkin' about Rachel and you were tryin' to protect me from that kind of pain with Logan," Max said musingly, finally releasing his wrist. "But now, I'm thinkin' maybe it's because you have a-"

"If you say 'crush', I will hurt somebody," Alec said stiffly.

Max watched him, watching her, and they both struggled to find words to say.

Alec shifted, opening his mouth.

Max beat him to it.

"You wanna go out? Go get some beer, or something?" She asked.

Alec's expression turned coy. "What, you mean, like a date?" He teased.

"Yeah," She nodded, and Alec was speechless once more.

She'd known before she'd asked what his answer would be, but it was still gratifying when he nodded slowly.

She didn't go back in to say goodbye to Logan. She wasn't really sure what to say. They could sort it out later; she was faintly certain that Logan Cale would always be part of her life, maybe just not in the way she'd originally imagined. She'd see him at T.C. tomorrow and it'd probably be horribly messy and gut-wrenching and all the more reason to hang out with Alec tonight.

"Max," Alec said, as they sauntered down the walkway together.

"Yeah?"

"You remember that incident with the superglue?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah, that was me."

Max sighed. "I had a feeling."

"And I did _originally_ go up on the roof to get Dalton to stop throwing water balloons..."

She sank onto her bike. "You're pushing it, Alec."

"The molasses really was him, though." He pointed out, sitting across his own.

"Uh-huh." She shook her head, pulling the keys from her worn jeans. "Start saying you crashed my dates on purpose, and we'll have problems, buddy."

He grinned at her. "I won't say it, then."

Max rolled her eyes.

It didn't surprise her that Logan didn't come after her, not even when the roar of twin motors washed across his manicured front lawn. The whole date had seemed like a desperate last attempt to prove that they could be together; guess Logan had seen the disintegration of their hopes as clearly as she had.

She spent the evening with Alec. They hung out at Crash. They played pool. They talked about transgenics and work, but they talked about everything and nothing too. They went back to his place and watched bad late night TV and Alec fell asleep and Max let herself out close to two a.m. It wasn't a date, Max told him the very next day, all annoyance, and self-righteousness, and 'I was only joking'ness, but as far as not-dates went, it was probably the best Max had been on.

So the next time, Alec got to choose where they went. But, of course, Max helped him pick.


	3. E

* * *

A/N: You might want to go reread _Name_ from my version of the first alphabet game before reading this. I've always liked the theory of how doing one thing differently can cause a chain reaction, a cascade of events.

A/N2: Man, this didn't turn out nearly as smutty as I'd originally planned. My muse kept insisting, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it, never seemed to be the right time.

* * *

_E is for Entrance_

Rated T, but for language, not for anything interesting

* * *

"_Simon_?"

He attempted to cover his surprise by pursing his lips. "Well, you kept on insisting that that wasn't my name."

No one could deny that the man knew how to make an entrance.

And she'd known immediately that it _was_ him. Not Ben. No, not poor broken Ben, her shame, left in the forest, his mad, mad eyes closed forever. No, this man was not Ben and could never be compared to Ben… because she still remembered what this man looked like when his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth grit together and she begged him not to stop, _never_ to stop.

Her cheeks tinged with color as she stood slowly from her bunk, willing herself to start moving, start thinking, stop gaping like an idiot. "You're Manticore." It came out slightly accusing, despite the fact that she'd come to the realization months ago, when she'd been confronted by his clone, her brother, in a darkened church.

He glanced down at himself, as if double checking. "Why, so I am," He glanced up at her smirking. "And so are you, apparently."

And there was something in his tone… "You knew I was a transgenic didn't you?!" She demanded.

He shrugged, circling her warily, his eyes glancing across the gray army fatigues, standard Manticore issue. He didn't like 'em on her. Didn't suit her. "Third date," He smiled slowly.

The memory darted across the forefront of her consciousness; something soft and treasured and god, this was _not_ what she needed right now. _His fingers glancing across the nape of her neck, sending a thrill of warning, and of something else, down her spine. She wondered if he'd caught sight of the barcode; wonder if he'd ask. But no, he didn't ask. His hand dropped away and he didn't touch her again and she pretended that she didn't care. _

"You could have turned me in," Her voice was low, her shoulders tensing; this was uncertain territory. She should be wary of him, Manticore was the enemy, _he_ was the enemy… But why hadn't he turned her in? She'd been plagued by confusion ever since she'd realized what he was all those months ago, but she just couldn't come up with any answers… And she thought she'd never see him again, get to ask why he'd let her go.

Why he'd kissed her goodbye.

But he was every bit as unfathomable as he'd been when he'd been pretending to be someone named Simon Lehane. "I could have. But I didn't," He said, and left it at that.

Their slow circle finally stopped and part of her knew she was standing too close to him considering the fact that there was a man in Seattle waiting for her… hopefully… if he didn't think she was dead.

His hand came up before he could stop it, pushed hair away from her face. Max cursed at the slight delay between his skin brushing hers, and her hand coming up to pop his. But her hand went through air, his own sliding away before she could even make contact. He smiled slowly. He was teasing her.

"There will be _no_ touching," She hissed and took a large step away from him, her heart hammering wildly in her chest.

His smile flagged, his eyes losing a bit a spark, "Wow, one year sure changed your tune." He took a step forward, just to show her he could. She stood her ground, just to show him she could. The room descended into silence as the battle of wills raged for a long moment. He lost interest quickly, though, and her breath caught as he broke from his tense stance and came right up to her, a small smirk blooming on his face.

It came out in a rush, quick and defensive. "Ihaveaboyfriend."

That stopped him. He scowled. "What did you just say?"

She took a deep breath, stepping away from him. The new space gave her the brainpower needed to twist her face to a scowl, harden her body against the heat of him. "I said, I have a boyfriend."

There for a moment… That couldn't be… jealousy? Could it?

494 knew his mission. Knew what he was here for; gain the traitor's trust, help her escape, kill Eyes Only. He just… hadn't expected Max to be the traitor everyone was whispering about. Stupid. So stupid. He'd seen her barcode; he'd known… Why had he ignored her designation? 452; why hadn't he connected the whispers, or Renfro's orders, with the woman he'd spent a night of passion and a week of warmth with?

…Maybe because he was still having trouble remembering everything from the Berrisford job… for the most part, it'd gone without a hitch. But sometimes his memory seemed spotty. The girl, Rachel, she'd joked about throwing herself at him, but he just couldn't bring himself to lead her on… Max was waiting… and then, the last night, the early time table, pulling the silencer out, her father alone in the office, Berrisford pulled a gun from the drawer, but Rachel was unhappy, moody as a teenager, and she'd followed him and…

The programming kicked in and the thoughts shut themselves down and 494 was just left with a little bit of jealousy that 452 had found herself a damn boyfriend. Maybe it was the jealousy that made him lash out, trying to get a reaction from her. Maybe he was just following orders, dropping the 'Breeding Program' bomb and trying to get her to trust him by not 'forcing' her into anything. It was probably the jealousy bit though, that and tryin' to wipe that damn scowl off her face.

The shirt came over top of his head in one fluid motion.

Max blinked, her mouth going dry, her body totally unprepared to be faced with that much skin again. "Wha- What are you doing?" She cursed the slight hitch in her voice that she couldn't control.

"We've been assigned to each other," He said conversationally, internally gleeful. Frown, gone. She actually... almost looked a bit glassy eyed. When she'd stared for too long, unblinking, he shook his head in frustration; maybe there was just no getting through to her. "We're breeding partners," He supplied, like it was no big deal.

"What?!" She was almost cute with her eyes almost out her head like that, her mouth dropped open, shock in every line of her body.

"We're supposed to copulate every night, until you get pregnant," He tossed his shirt around her, to her utilitarian bunk. It faded into the rumpled grey of her sheets. He smiled slowly. "Although, copulate is such a boring word for what we do, don't you think?"

Max ignored that, her face twisting in disgust. "That's sick!"

"That's orders," He shrugged. He reached out and long fingers tugged at the edge of her shirt gently, not quite hard enough to pull it free from her BDU's, just hard enough for all of her traitorous blood to crash its way down to her thighs…

She popped his hand. "I am not going to sleep with you,"

"Why not?" he asked blandly, "'Cuz you have a boyfriend?"

"Because it's wrong!" She retaliated.

"Who is this boyfriend anyway?" 494 scowled. Max opened her mouth, but abruptly, the viewbox of the door slid open, and a guard peered in.

She stepped further away from the transgenic before her, the distraction once again reminding her of how ridiculously close she kept letting him get. "He's sweet-talking me," She grumped, wondering at the sickness of Manticore, sending a guard to check and see if they were getting busy. "Tryin' to get me in the mood."

The guard rolled his eyes, and maybe he wasn't checking up on them because he fixated on 494. "You got something for me?"

Max watched the exchange in something almost akin to amusement. Vitamins for cash? Seriously? What did he even need money for? He was stuck in here… Unless it was for romancin' girls when he was out on missions, buyin' them shitty coffee and terrible breakfast, makin' them think he's something he's not.

By the time 494 had turned back around, Max was narrow-eyed and in control of her rapidly fluctuating hormones once more. Or, enough in control of them that they weren't declaring themselves on her pink face, across her warm body.

"Interesting little set-up, you have there," She scowled, her damn annoying perpetual frown back in place.

He shrugged. "I have a few things workin' for me," He wondered why she sounded irritated. Why should she care if he was fleecin' Manticore?

Max's head cocked to her side, her hands comin' up to her hips. "So, the Russians-"

"Another thing I had going for me," He scowled. "Until I got called back early after they found a spike in my hormone levels," And that was a good an opening as any. His head cocked to the side, and his voice softened. "You went into Heat, didn't you? That night we-"

Her whole face went red. "Just now figuring that out?" She demanded, covering her embarrassment.

He shrugged, and she pretended like she wasn't interested in the rise and fall of broad shoulders, the tense and release of muscle. "Congrats. You and I are the first transgenics I know of to make it under the duress of hormones since the breakthrough suppressant was found back in the X-3's time,"

"Lucky us," She replied dryly, part of her wondering if that was why it'd been so much harder to resist the Heat when she'd been around him, because his presence somehow ramped up the effects of the hormones or something like that. She shut the thoughts down; she didn't want to think of herself as a mewling cat, scratching at the screen door just because of the presence of a tom. She was a human… she just… had a few quirks… that's all.

He glanced around when she got distracted, lost in her thoughts, and he got bored quickly. His mouth opened and he was only mostly joking. "So, are we gonna do this thing or what?"

So he wasn't prepared for her foot smashing into his torso, sending him crashing back into the door. Maybe he should have expected it, but he couldn't control the annoyance that seemed tinged with betrayal. What the fuck? She'd _booted_ him? "What the hell was that?" He demanded, still plastered against the cold steel of the cell door, his voice almost whiny.

"The only physical contact you and I are gonna have," She tossed her hair.

He pushed himself off the door, all coiled muscle and annoyance. "Y'know, I didn't exactly hear you complaining when you thought I was an agent of the mob,"

"That was the Heat," She scowled. "Besides, you're Manticore, aren't you supposed to hate me? Don't you think you might catch something?" There was something in her harsh voice, something almost pained. Guess all the other trannie's had been giving her shit.

"I'd have caught it already," He was smirking, in her space once more, leaning over slightly, his face close to hers.

His eyes darted downwards and he was staring at her mouth. And she was cursing herself for the breath held in her lungs, the blood pumping fiercely through her veins. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. God, why did this always happen to her? Fucking Heat… it always left soft feelings after the hardness had been drawn out. That's how she'd ended up in failing relationships with loser after loser; Darren being the culmination before she finally decided she would never pursue a relationship with a Heat mistake again…

A decision only strengthened by the supposed situation with Simon… For months, she'd thought he'd used her and tossed her to the side and she'd hated him for it... But a small part of her had wondered… was it her? Was it something about her? Did she chase everyone away? Did she chase _him_ away? Did he get to know her better and not like what he'd seen?

Was she somehow… defective?

But no, Manticore had just called back their soldier. And he'd left without her. Left her behind. And she'd been weirded out enough that when her next Heat had rolled around she'd avoided Logan and his 'surprise' one-year anniversary dinner, avoided moonlight rides, avoided everything; just stayed at home and sulked, thinking of green, gold eyes and a wicked smile.

But he'd kissed her goodbye.

"Stop lookin' at me like that," His face twisted.

"Like what?" She asked, a little bit too softly.

"All crazy eyed." He rolled his eyes.

Max huffed in annoyance, any remotely gentle thoughts screeching to a halt. "Why didn't you turn me in?" She finally came right out and demanded it. "You're Manticore."

"So are you," His face twisted into a 'duh' expression.

Her stubborn jaw told him, that no, she didn't consider herself Manticore… only the people who hadn't run when they were 9 were Manticore; only those that weren't escapees, traitors, rats… He shook his head, realizing she was still waiting on an answer. "Didn't feel like it," He said blandly.

Guess it was twenty questions time, 'cuz she immediately asked. "What's your designation, 492 or 494?" He didn't know how she'd guessed… wait, one of the runners was 493… His psycho twin, her unit-mate… He covered up his annoyance.

"494." She opened her mouth, but he talked over her, "My turn for a question. Why didn't you know I was transgenic? If your little traitor unit-mate-"

"Brother," She corrected. "He was my brother."

494's face twisted in horror. "Your brother? You called him your _brother_?!" That was a new level of kink, even for him. "You slept with someone that looks like your brother?!"

Her face colored. "I hadn't seen him since I was a kid, okay? There was no way I would have known you were a copy!"

His own face twisted into a scowl. "I'm not a copy of him," And there was something hard and haunted there. She wondered if he'd known about her brother's madness, if he-

His eyes were dark again, memories of pain. Oh. She should have known. Lydecker must have known about Ben's psychotic spree. And if Lydecker knew, Manticore knew. And if Ben was schizophrenic, then Manticore would want to make damn sure that 494...

"I'm sorry," She said softly, taking a small step towards him.

He blinked, like he hadn't been expecting that. He finally shook his head in exasparation. "You are one confusing woman, 452. One minute, it's 'you're disgusting' and the next it's, 'oh, let me mother you,'. Make up your damn mind already,"

"What were you even doing on the outside?" She asked in a hard voice, to make up for it.

"Do I get to ask another question after this?" 494 huffed in annoyance. She waited. He sighed. "Solo Ops."

Her mouth went dry. "You mean assassinations," Oh god. Not only was he Manticore… Way to go, Max, she'd fallen in with one of Manticore's assassins, well-known within these halls as the elites, the golden children. She really did know how to pick 'em.

"Whatever," He grunted, and she watched his face shut down, his body become cold. And in that moment, yeah, she believed it. He could do it. "It's my job, you wanna bust my chops about it-"

"It's not a job!" She argued, and she didn't know why she wanted him to see, to connect with her once more, to stop being cold, "It's sick! It's human lives!"

He turned on her, his green eyes blazing. "You think you know what it's like in here? Think you can just say, no, sorry, I don't feel like it today? You don't know, 452, you don't know anything about _us_."

"And I don't want to," She smiled sweetly. And she was so caught up, she didn't even expect it when he abruptly pushed past her, fighting fuzzy, unhappy memories, and grabbed his shirt from her bunk, pulling it back over his head. He tossed himself down on the thin cot.

"Wake me up in an hour," He frowned angrily, and left it at that, his eyes shutting. She tried to draw him back into it, but he ignored her completely, pretending sleep… She woke him up by rolling him off her bunk one hour later. He didn't say anything, and for a moment she thought he'd leave without a word, slip back into obscurity.

494 paused as he was about to slip out the door, his arm braced against the cold steel frame as he looked back at her. "I'll be back tomorrow night," He scowled, obviously annoyed. "Try and be in a better mood." If she'd had something to throw at him, she would have.

She hoped she'd never have to see him again. As soon as he was gone, it gave her that much more incentive to work on her escape route. Really, it was almost ridiculous how easy this was turning out to be. Manticore really was run by idiots. She broke through the thick mortar blocks, earlier than she'd expected, her annoyance at Simon… 494… driving her through most of the night. Another day… Another day is all it would take. And she'd be back in Seattle. And Logan would be there… And Simon (shit, 494) would still be here. And she'd be safe.

The next morning passed in kind of a fog. Be released from her cell. Shower, alone. Stand in line at mess, alone. Stand at attention in formation. Face the hard eyes of people that hated her. Realize that 494 was in the same formation as her, be subsequently frazzled. The day was an unending nightmare.

Especially when they were pulled from ranks around noon… Not everyone, just a handful of select couples. Standing in formation, paired off by male and female, Max was beginning to wonder what the hell was going on, why 494 was standing at her side, and what the hell Renfro was doing outside the safety of her air-conditioned, bunker-like office.

And as the platinum-blonde director went down the line, Max began to get an idea.

"Report."

The male X-5 squared his shoulders, all brisk efficiency. "Successful copulation with X5-392, ma'am."

Renfro smiled slowly, "Excellent." Max's blood went cold. Are you kidding? That bitch was personally asking? Nobody could be that sick! But Renfro had already moved on to the next pair, her eyes hard once more. "Report."

The female before Renfro didn't even hesitate, squinting off into the distance. "Copulation was unsuccessful, ma'am."

Renfro scowled. "Explain."

The woman's eyes darted to the man next to her for only a moment. "X5-698 failed to achieve minimum mission requirements, ma'am."

Two guards stepped in, pulled the unprotesting blonde away, god, this couldn't be happening. That's why 494 had been in her cell, he hadn't been lying, Manticore really was doing some kind of sick breeding program. What was she going to-

Suddenly Renfro was before her, and blood drained from her face. The urge to reach out and throttle the woman was powerful. Crazy. Overwhelming. She shut it down. This place was getting to her.

"Report," The bitch actually smiled as she said it.

Max hesitated. So did 494. Renfro's eyes narrowed, and Max watched as her ice blue eyes darted towards one of the guards, waiting. No way was Max going back into the Hole. And 494, he was an assassin, a true blue, he'd tell the truth and they'd be punished, maybe he'd be the one punished for not forcing her, for doing a decent thing. She didn't care about him, she told herself. She just couldn't go back to the Hole, not this close to escape. All her thoughts and shock and surprise combined together and it had her opening her mouth before 494 even got a chance.

"Successful copulation between myself and X5-494, Ma'am." Max sounded off. Then added, almost as an afterthought, "Twice."

Technically, it was true… It'd… just happened a year ago… that's all.

Renfro looked flabberglasted. Max hadn't even known the woman was capable of an expression outside of her usual small, sadistic smile.

Max's eyes darted to the side. 494 looked like he might laugh. Renfro turned sharp eyes on 494 and his expression became neutral once more. "Verify, 494," She demanded, like she hadn't expected that at all.

And she hadn't. She'd told 494 to gain 452's trust by not forcing her into anything, lying for her when asked about the breeding program, and ultimately, helping her to escape… not sleep with her for chrissakes!

God, she knew he'd been too pretty for this job. She'd thought his resemblance to 452's unit-mate would detract from the possibility of anything happening! Plus, as a twin, he should feel more hatred than usual for an 09'er. Animals. She should have known better.

Renfro was so thrown off, so disgusted, by 494's affirmative answer, she completely forget that she'd been going to have a DNA mark-up drawn on 452, given that her young clone had progeryia, and 452 did not. Renfro made her way down the rest of the line, still narrow-eyed in annoyance.

"You have a mission," She scowled up into 494's face, when he was standing before her in her office, later that day, "And last I checked, that didn't include fucking the enemy!"

494 was still stony-faced, staring straight at the concrete wall. A perfect soldier. But Renfro wasn't fooled. All the X-5's were faulty. All they needed was a trigger, and like a switch, they'd flip; think they were autonomous, try to escape, think for themselves. Almost made Renfro sick, they were meant to be _tools_. She shook her head, slightly, almost sadly. Faulty; Just look at how 494 had let himself get discovered by little Rachel Berrisford after the mess with her father, refused to terminate because she was an 'innocent', despite the fact that she was a liability, forcing Sandoval to finish the job. Millions of dollars of R and D and one little 17 year old with big eyes made her tools grow a conscience, put one of Lydecker's best soldiers out of the line of duty for almost 3 months while they wiped the memory of that final day, of everything but success, from his mind.

But if 494 had a weakness for women... You've got to be kidding. Even 452's poison couldn't taint her crop so quickly; couldn't start to turn 494 after only one night.

"We need Eyes Only, 494." A smile suddenly bloomed across her face. "And 452, as his _girlfriend_," Ahh, that shook the perfect little soldier's façade, didn't it, "is the only one who can lead us to him." She crossed round her desk, sinking into her leather chair.

"So do me a favor," She leaned forward, her smile cold, her eyes darting downwards mockingly, just for a moment, "Try to keep it in your pants," She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. 494 saluted sharply, but the slim woman ignored him and the hardness, almost hatred, almost crazy, in his eyes. She was still staring at the chart on the X-6, the one that shared genetics with 452. The more time she'd had to think about it the less sure she became that she'd need a DNA mark-up done on 452. After all, 453 had never had any problems. This X-6 must be part of a bum batch. She tossed the file into the trash. That was the problem with transgenics; they could only ever be as good as the humans that made them. But the good thing? They were expendable. You could always make more.

Max, completely unaware of 494's meeting with Renfro, was grateful to be back in her cell at the end of the day… Away from the hard eyes of people who hated her, the rough handling of the trainers, the possibility of seeing_ him_ again when she was unprepared, unready. But her relief at being within the safer confines of the cell lasted for only a few minutes. He was gonna be here later, he said he'd be back. And she'd be faced with all that confusion and weirdness again...

She... couldn't handle it. She had to get out of here. 494 was a hazard to her health. A hazard to her escape plan. A hazard to her hear- so not going there. Stupid Heat.

The large block separated from the wall, releasing fine white powder into the air, and she smiled at her freedom, so close. She wasn't sure exactly how she was going to pull this off... At least, not until, while wandering the darkness of Manticore's underground, she met someone who just might help get her out of here. Someone who showed her to a storage room that looked onto Manticore's dusky grounds. Freedom, so close, called to her, sang through her her veins. Max couldn't stay here. Not even for another minute. She didn't care how much of a risk it was. She had to get out of here. So she did, with help from the strength of her newfound acquaintance, Josh.

494 waited in her cell while the guard reported its emptiness to Renfro, letting her know it was all goin' according to plan. Even if 452 was moving faster than the director had thought she would. She'd thought it'd be days before 452 was out.

494 had been waiting an hour when he heard the first gunshots.

Ahhh. Fuck me, he thought. His night was going to be way longer than he'd originally planned. 452 wasn't supposed to escape _yet_. He was about to bang on the cell door, get the guard to come back, when it slid open on its own.

"From the director," The guard held out the piece. "452 breached the perimeter. Had the help of one of the mistakes in the basement, god knows how it got out. She says you know what to do,"

"Ah man, couldn't they just engineer a retro-virus and let 452 kill the guy?" 494 grumped, grabbing the gun.

"We need a blood sample for that," The guard said blandly. "Director expects you back in 24 hours with 452."

494 shook his head, following the guard out of the cell. He glanced back, once, at the empty room, at the wall only one brick layer thick. C'mon, 452. You should have known better. Why you gotta play into their hands? Why you gotta make it so difficult for us both?

It wasn't so hard to track her. The forest was almost pitch black at night, but the misty gray, almost silvery nightvision of a cat fixed that, and he followed her trail; she'd left at a dead run. She musta had some powerful incentive to break out. Renfro had thought it'd take threatening Eyes Only to do it, guess 452 had gotten bored with stickin' around. She was headed straight back to Seattle. She wasn't even really that hard to follow. He caught up with her near the outskirts of the city, followed along in shadow, kept to the darkness and tried to quell the guilt.

But crap, she was just goin' back to her place to change. Yeah, her place, he remembered it, even knew which window to look for from the rooftop of a neighboring building. Different roommate though, a pretty black woman, very happy to see her, blah, blah, yeah, cry, boo-hoo, let's go, 452, if I have to be a traitorous slime-ball, I'd like to get it over with. 494 started. Traitor? He wasn't betraying her. She was the traitor. He was just doin' his job. But the excuse tasted like ash in his mouth.

_Just like you were doin' your job when you let her go all those months ago?_, his mind whispered to him

452, Max, wasn't in much of a hurry. She changed out of the BDU's. Threw on some new clothes (stupid curtains) and she was leaving already? Nice clothes, he realized. And a bit of make-up, and she'd brushed her hair free of twigs and fly-aways. She was going to see someone and appearance mattered. He told himself that it didn't matter to him if appearance mattered to her; he hadn't seen her in a year, and honestly, she was kind of a bitch, way more grumpy than she'd used to be, he didn't like her, she could date whoever she wanted. He just wanted to go home.

He pulled out the gun, checked his clip. This is it. Show time.

494 followed the target back to the ritzier area of Seattle. An area he'd looked on in kind of scorn, last time he'd been here. These people barely acknowledged the pulse existed; what was urban, earthy Max doin' on this side of town? And by Max, he meant his target, because calling her by name made it all too personal.

He pushed the thoughts to the side. Without a doubt, 494 knew he was about to be presented with the elusive Eyes Only.

The building was large. Shiny. Polished. He slipped in after she'd gotten on the elevator. He stood outside the copper plated doors, watched the red LCD display crest on a floor number, and he shook his head. If his instincts were right, and Eyes Only really did live here... Did that make Eyes Only some kind of informational version of Robin Hood, fighting for the little people? Or was he just the biggest damn hypocrite on the face of the planet?

His annoyance was in full bloom when he got to the penthouse level.

This is ridiculous, he grumped, hanging around the entrance, feeling like a creepy lurker, watching the back of her head as she kissed the infamous Eyes Only.

This is it? She thought. Where's the rush? Why the disappointment? Thinkin' of 494, back at Manticore… why did she feel… guilty?

"I was just about to meet up with Lydecker," Logan was saying wonderingly, as she pulled away (wiping slightly at her mouth) and…

"Are you kidding me?!" 494's annoyed voice filled the room, as he caught a look at the man's face and he made his second surprising entrance into her life in two days. "That's him?! The great Eyes Only is this guy?!"

Max almost jumped a foot in the air. "What?" She whirled around, and oh my god, it was _him_ standing in Logan's entranceway, looking like a fish out of water, (make that an _annoyed_ fish out of water,) "494, what are you _doing_ here?!"

"This guy is it?! This is who Manticore is having such trouble with?!" 494 was waving the gun around in undisguised irritation.

Logan was blinking in confusion. Max could practically feel his eyes narrow. "Simon Lehane?" He demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"His name's not Simon," Max was frowning, stepping away from Logan, closer to 494. "He doesn't have a name. He's Manticore."

494 was still shaking his head. "You've got to be shitting me," 494 was aggravated. Max rolled her eyes in response, preparing to say, yeah, he's Eyes Only, we got it covered, but 494's next question made her mouth snap shut. "_This_ is your boyfriend?! Mr. Grabby Old Guy from the docks?"

"What?!" Max demanded. "He is not old!" Logan opened his mouth, but they were both ignoring him again.

494 shook his head. "Jeez, 452, I know you were upset that you'd never get to see me again,"

"WHAT?!"

"But just because you'd never have it that good again-"

"Don't delude yourself!"

"doesn't mean you should have given up on men altogether."

"EXCUSE YOU?!" Twin voices exclaimed.

494 smirked. Sauntered right up to her, ignoring Logan's protest of annoyance. "I should have guessed though." He shrugged. "It's kinda like my part-time job, figuring out what people want. And even back then, he wanted you. Guess he finally wore you down, huh?"

"He did not wear me down," Max huffed, Logan didn't know why he bothered even making an attempt at a sentence, 'cuz they both talked right over him anyway. "He-"

"Flirted, right?" 494 snorted. "Made you feel special? Wined and dined you and filled you up on your own self-importance. Bet all that blood pumping after all your little stake-outs together didn't exactly hurt either." He was too close again. And she should be hissing, and spitting, and clawing, but his arm wrapped around her, his large hand splayed against the small of her back, and he pulled her in.

"You… You don't know anything about it," She was unnerved by his confidence, the easy confidence of an assassin, an alpha, a man who'd already felt her inside and out.

"Listen, pal," Eyes Only was saying, in a heated voice. "I don't know who you are, or what you want, but-"

His lips were featherlight across her browbone… she couldn't beat him down, 'cuz they weren't really kisses… it was more like, breathing against her skin, lips moving gently, down her temple, across the side of her face, her earlobe, the sensitive skin below… The not-kisses were consuming… so different from the real-kiss with Logan, the man that was now saying something loudly and angrily in the background, so different from her first 'like-that' kiss with the great Eyes Only, a kiss devoid of adrenaline or excitement or anything except for happiness at being safely, securely out of Manticore with nothing to threaten them. 494's breath was on her neck, and her eyes were shutting and she was falling, falling, falling, and she reached and grasped at the first thought that came across her mind for stability…

"You have a gun," Max gasped, her arms coming up to shove him bodily away.

He glanced down, like he was just remembering it. He grunted in annoyance, like he didn't want to be reminded of it. "Yeah, so?"

"What do you mean, _so_?" She scowled. Like he could deny he'd been sent by Manticore with standard-issue in hand. "I am _not _going back," She hissed.

"Yeah you are," He said breezily. He turned the gun on Eyes Only. "In a few minutes anyway… After I deal with him." Max's eyes widened in horror.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" She launched herself at him, too close, he didn't get a chance to turn the gun on her before she plowed into him and they both went to the floor. A punch here, a kick there, 494 kept getting distracted by how close she was, how intimate struggling on the ground could seem when it brought back memories of thrusting and-

A lamp slammed into the back of his head after only a few moments and he went down, on top of her, boneless.

"What the hell was that?" Max demanded, staring wide-eyed at Logan over 494's collapsed shoulder. She struggled to shove 494's weight off of her.

Logan scowled, lowering the shiny desk lamp slowly. "What, did you forget I was here? I wasn't going to let him kill us,"

"I was taking care of him." Max scowled, rolling his deadweight off of her, coming to her knees next to him.

"He was winning," Logan pointed out, more than a little annoyed.

"Just because he was on top for like a second, doesn't mean he was winning," Max checked the back of 494's head for blood, her cheeks only coloring slightly. And Logan was struck with, once again, the desire to ask; what had happened between her and Simon Lehane, almost a year ago? Was it like the stranger had implied, had he and she- The week that she'd avoided Logan, only to come back, annoyed, angry, talking crap about all men in general. Was it because this man had blown her off?

"What are we going to do?" He asked instead, sending soulful eyes towards her. He was just glad she was here, they could finally be-

"I'm taking him back to my place," Max declared in annoyance, letting 494's head rest gently back on the ground. She turned to Logan, frowning slightly. "Can you give me a ride?"

Uhh. What?

494 woke up in a familiar bed with a terrible headache.

"Move and I'll kick your ass," An annoyed voice, from a chair near the bed, rose and filled the room. He squinted in the near darkness, his eyes adjusted quickly. Oh great.

"I've got a job to do," He pointed out, sitting up slowly. "We gotta be back at base in less than 24 hours, with coordinates for Eyes Only's body in hand,"

"We both know that's not going to happen," Max declared stubbornly.

494 sighed.

"And we both know, you won't be able to take me back," Her voice softened.

Shit.

"I'll do what I was trained to do," His voice was hard.

Max snorted. "Yeah right. Like how you reported me the first time we met up? Or like how you blew a perfectly good shot at Eyes Only all so you could demand to know whether or not he was my boyfriend?"

494 paused for a long moment. "Is he?" He finally asked, pretending nonchalance.

"No," Max scowled. Then immediately corrected with a "Yes," another "No," and then a "It's complicated. I thought-" She trailed off. She didn't know. She thought, comin' back, it'd be different… The reemergence of Simon Lehane in her life had screwed everything up.

494 swung his legs off the bed. "You know," He finally said musingly, leaning forward slightly. "There's this theory, back at Manticore… Some of the instructors say that Heat brings on mating urges… makes transgenics think about more permanent kind of deals, even if maybe they're not so compatible with who they ended up with."

Max just stared at him in the darkness, face neutral. "That's ridiculous."

"Then why the hell do we both know that I'm about to let you go?" He asked softly.

Max wasn't sure what to say. So she finally just said, "I named you while you were asleep."

494 blinked. "You… did what?"

"I named you Dick," The smile stretched slowly, evilly across her face, a direct contrast to the sweet tone she used.

"Ahh," 494 nodded sagely, ignoring the swell of some nameless emotion. _She'd named him_. "452's favorite name. If I remember correctly, driving back to your place almost a year ago, you wanted that to be my name, too." His head mimicked hers, his tone just as sweet. "Now, was that before or after you tore my shirt open? I'm just having the hardest time remembering."

"It's not too late to change your name to Ass," She warned.

He stood, and this was not part of her plan at all. He nodded as he advanced. "Ass? Well, you did seem to fixate on that a bit too, all that gripping, and telling me not to stop, and-"

Her face was blazing now and she opened her mouth to hiss something at him when he yanked her from her chair and finally, _finally_, his mouth was hot and hard and pressed against hers.

Naming would have to wait, 'cuz her brain seemed to be having the hardest time functioning.

Renfro got the call close to the end of the week. And she recognized that smug tone almost immediately.

"Well, Deck, are you still kicking?" Her voice was hard, a testament to the long day she'd had.

"Don't be a testy bitch," Lydecker's voice was always cool, even now, "just because we both know you lost 452, 494, and your shot at Eyes Only, doesn't mean you should be bitter. Although, I do wonder how the committee feels about that,"

"Don't you worry, _Deck_, it's all under control. 494-"

"If I know my kids," Lydecker's superior tone grated, "Hell, if I just know 452, 494 is a lost cause. You're finished, Renfro."

Renfro slammed down the phone. The committee would have words… But at least she could stall them for a little while longer… Eyes Only had backed off on his threats to expose the place, which would help her greatly. Manticore would survive another day. She sank into her chair, sighing. 452, 494, they were liabilities, but minor ones in the long run. She just had to stay in position long enough… She was still hunting for the Perfect Candidate, the one transgenic lacking junk DNA, for Sandeman. The one that'd save the world… 452, in comparison to that, just wasn't important.


	4. F

A/N: Blarg, there is officially too much Logan. Next one will have to be virtually Logan free, although H iwas written by request and Logan is a necessary evil in that one. I've just been in kind of a dissecting mood lately, which is what spawned D E and F in rapid succession; three similar but very different looks at who my Maxie-poo really belongs with. MWaha. This one amuses me; classic cliche formula, but I figured Max was due for a turn.

* * *

_F is for Forget_

Rated T/M-

* * *

_Max, I love you._

It was the first thing Max heard before waking. Like a dream, flitting through consciousness; a broken, pained whisper that part of her longed to respond to and yet could not.

And then, again, in another voice, _Max, I love you_… Not as desperate, not as pained. More sure… more rote, but still sad. It was to that voice that Max awoke. And it was the owner of that voice that Max was still trying to get the hell out of her room, almost an hour later, after being poked, prodded, and all manner of other things by every damn doctor and nurse in this hospital. She just wanted to be left alone. The back of her head was killing her.

"How many times do I got to tell you, old man, I don't frickin' _know _you!"

"Max,"

Max pushed the call button next to the hospital bed once more, wondering when the hell the damn nurse was going to show up and remove the crazy guy that kept insisting he was her boyfriend and that she was some kind of transgenic general. Pfft. As if. All of her free time was spent bailing Sketch's dumb ass out of trouble or swiping art pieces to pay for her baby. As for the boyfriend thing… Yeah right. She'd just broken up with stupid, cheating Darren. Or… well… stupid, cheating Darren had just broken up with her. _Emotional fogbank, my ass_, she thought to herself grumpily.

Dr. Shankar slipped in, shooing the harried nurse on her way down the hallway away. Her arm tightened around the newspaper under her arm and her eyes darted between the annoyed transgenic in the bed and Logan, hovering over her earnestly. She sighed. "Logan, I told you, you can't push these things. Amnesia is-"

Max snorted in annoyance, apparently still fully in the grips of denial, and interrupted. "I told you. I _don't _have-"

The dark haired doctor leveled her with a knowing gaze and pulled the newspaper from under her arm, handing it to Logan. "Here, show her this."

He flicked the paper open, and his eyes glanced over it before he handed it to Max who snatched it from his grasp, frowning. And she didn't miss the way he flinched away from her. Yeah. Some boyfriend. Guy didn't even want to touch her. Her eyes moved over the headlines distractedly, nothing interesting, before glancing over the date. Brain function screeched to a halt.

Oh my god… that couldn't be right. That would mean… She… she was twenty-one-ish? Where the hell had the last two years of her life gone?!

The blonde man's face was warring between sympathetic and 'I told you so.' Oh god. If she really was twenty-one, really did have amnesia, maybe he really _was_ her boyfriend. She looked again at the date on the paper before glancing up at him and rapidly back at the newspaper. She vaguely wondered if she should she feel bad for calling him an asshole earlier...

The door swung open once more, and Max looked up, any excuse to look away from the damning evidence in her hand, and her mouth went dry as what was quite possibly the hottest man alive glanced up. His green eyes were vibrant, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he caught sight of her, as he stepped into the room. Her vision hazed, and for a moment, she could swear she'd been in a similar situation before… and maybe she had been 'cuz when her eyes cleared, that was a Jam Pony messenger pack under his arm, its heavy strap tugging at his neck.

Finally. Here was someone she could believe that she'd known.

"So, Maxie, finally awake, huh?" He smiled slightly at her. She smiled tentatively back. They must have been close if she'd let him get away with calling her _Maxie_. The man blinked for a moment at the tentative smile before shaking it off and turning a frown on Logan and Shankar. "When did she wake up?" He demanded, "And why the hell didn't you call me?"

Shankar looked pointedly at Logan. Logan looked away in guilt that could not contain his annoyance that… whoever this guy was… had shown up.

But… she did know him. Didn't she? His eyes were not totally green, not like she'd thought at first; they contained hints of gold that seemed… so familiar… Something from her childhood…

Ben! Ben had those eyes! But…

_493? …designation… 494…_

_Must… twinned you. _

_You should have a name too. _

Oh my god, Max's eyes widened, ignoring 'Logan's' excuses in the background. This man was Manticore. The bastards had made a twin, or a copy, or a clone, or whatever you call it, of her brother. (Part of her briefly wondered if there was another Max wandering around…) But more importantly, in the flash of memory, he'd been in a stark cell, grey fatigues covering his body. She'd… been caught by Manticore again? And she'd named him? Max's eyes swung to the man once more, in the middle of chewing Logan a new one, something about _Seconds_ and _Terminal City_ (that toxic waste dump? Guess Logan had been tellin' the truth about that bit.) and- "Alec?" She breathed, tentatively.

"Yeah, who else would I be?" Alec dropped his pack at the end of her bed, still too peeved at Logan to make a crack to Max along the lines of, _how hard did you get hit in the head_? But he put his annoyance on pause when he noticed Shankar beaming at Max like she'd just discovered that Max was an idiot savant that could solve some upper division calculus problems.

"That's wonderful, Max!" Shankar smiled wide, and Alec's eyes snapped back to Max (just in time to catch her brief, annoyed frown at the older woman's tone). "Do you remember anything else?"

Max shrugged, fingering the plastic medical bracelet at her wrist. Max Guevara. Female. Twenty-one. O neg., a universal donor. And a blank slate extraordinaire, memories up to only nineteen years of age, with a headache to boot.

_Hurts._

_Keep your eyes open, Maxie. Just a little bit longer._

"Remember anything else?" Alec repeated in confusion. His eyes widened in horror and he shook his head, not noticing how Max's eyes had gone distant. "Oh please don't tell me-"

"Last two years, gone," Logan grumped. "Like they never happened." He looked away in bitterness, muttering, "But of course she remembers you right away."

Alec ignored him, focusing on something more important than the older man's childish jealousy. Max? Had amnesia? And something deep in the back of his head, some sick part of him, broke through all the numbing horror and snorted. Man, that was a new one. Didn't all the bad shit usually happen to him?

Shankar pulled Logan away, speaking to him in a hushed tone in the corner. Leaving the two transgenics alone, or, at least as alone as the small, stark room would allow. "Logan, I told you; you've got to take it slow with her. Be grateful for anything she remembers. We're lucky she's even awake. Persistent vegetative states-"

"She was only out for three days," Logan glanced at Alec, who'd lifted his pack and was pulling out motorcycle magazines and dropping them on the stand at Max's bedside.

"What're these?" She asked, flicking through them in interest.

"These were for me to read while I watched you sleep… and by sleep I mean do a pretty good impression of a turnip."

He'd come by to check on her? Her breath caught as he leaned over her to grab the remote from her side. Her eyes followed his face as he pulled away. She told herself it was because she was fascinated that there was a harder, more masculine copy of her brother at her bedside. Her body, her nerve endings crackling to life, a magnet pointing straight at him, told her a different story.

"Logan," Shankar shook her head, recapturing Logan's attention. "She's a transgenic. The fact that she went under at all speaks of some serious damage that her body is probably struggling to heal even now."

"How long until she remembers everything?" Logan asked, his eyes darting towards her, and was dismayed that she was still watching Alec with some kind of intense fascination as he plopped himself into the chair Logan had been using and threw his boots up on the side of her bed. Max squawked out a 'hey' of protest.

"Could be hours, days, weeks…" Shankar sighed in frustration, knowing that the man in front of her just did not want to accept the only answer she could give him. "In all honesty, Logan… It could be never. Even to this day, not much is known about amnesia. Why people remember what they remember, why they forget what they forget… For now… just… introduce her to familiar situations… _Gently_." Shankar said in warning tone, before adding in sympathy, "And hope for the best."

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples in sudden exhaustion, despite the fact it was only just now creeping up on midnight. "Thank you, doctor." He managed, even though he wasn't feeling particularly gracious.

The woman nodded and slipped away, shooting Max one last supportive smile before going back to her rounds.

"Alright," Logan turned back to them, and was annoyed, because Alec was now returning Max's piercing gaze. "Let's get moving," Shankar probably wouldn't approve of moving Max this soon, so they had to do this quick.

"Wait, what?" Max looked at him once more, blinking, clearing the heavy gaze from her expression.

"Max, last time you were in a hospital…" He wondered how believable she'd find '_some Cult crazies tried to kill you because you're the champion of the world'_. He settled for, "Well, some stuff went down. We can't stay here." Especially since White had probably already realized Max wasn't dead, and he'd be scouring the hospital for her soon, "You can rest at my place-" Logan ignored Alec's look.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Max's nose wrinkled in disgust, her eyes flicking again over the thin framed glasses, the lank hair, the slightly patronizing air that oozed from his silver-spoon mouth. Max mentally added a 'Hell no,' to the beginning of her previous sentence.

Logan opened his mouth to tell her it was for her own good when Alec interrupted.

"If you want her out so bad," Alec shrugged. "I'll take her back to our place. She can rest in her own bed."

Our place? Max glanced again at the man at her bedside as Logan started to scowl.

Holy crap. Her and the hot guy? The guy that was apparently some kind of twin of 493, the brother she'd never gotten to see as an adult? Or… well… that she thinks she never got to see as an adult... Huh. She didn't know whether to give herself a high-five or a good smack-down.

"Waitaminute," Max's face twisted in confusion, looking back at the blonde man frowning by the door. "I thought you said you were my boyfriend." And her face twisted in horror.

Oh.

My.

_God. _

An old guy had frickin' tried to swindle her into coming home with him!

"Max, calm down," Logan implored, ducking out of the way of another pillow. "It's complicated."

"Complicated, my ass, you old perv-dog!" She leaned over, ignoring the dizziness, ignoring the sudden chill on her back where the hospital gown separated, and wrenched the remote from Alec's hand . Alec, for his part, figured he should probably step in, as she aimed it, before she did some serious damage. Or ran out of small and/or soft objects to throw and picked up a lamp. Whichever came first.

"Max, you two did used to date," Alec interjected, letting his feet drop from the bed as he tried hard to contain the grin. Holy crap, this was better than daytime TV. Even if Logan was a total douche for trying to slip back into Max's life when she was just wakin' up from a coma.

"We did?" Max's face twisted in confusion and horror. "But… but why?!"

Alec shrugged, standing. "You got me. It wasn't the sex, that's for sure," And he grinned wickedly down at her. Her eyes darted again the older man, Logan, now spluttering in apoplectic rage. So did Alec's. She looked back at the transgenic at her side in time to catch him rolling his eyes. The expression… so familiar…

_He rolled his eyes._

_"We've been assigned to each other. We're breeding partners." _

Both of the men paused to watch her warily as her thoughts drifted away from them. "Max, what's wrong?" Logan asked gently, snapping her back from her faraway gaze. "Are you remembering anything else? About us?"

"We…" She looked again at Alec, watching her, his face Manticore neutral. "We were breeding partners?" Whatever that means.

"YOU WERE WHAT?!"

"Max never told you about that?" Alec asked, turning to look at the bespectacled man, controlling the wince. "Yeah, it was a Manticore thing. It was no big deal."

"No big deal?!"

"Nothing happened, Logey," Alec rolled his eyes. "Calm down."

_…between myself and 452, Ma'am. Twice._

_Excellent, 452. What would your boyfriend say?_

"Now what?" Logan grumped, not liking the way her memories were coming so far.

"Twice? We did it _twice_?" Max demanded, focusing again on Alec. "And please don't tell me that this guy was the chump boyfriend that that blonde lady was talkin' about."

"Calm down, Log." Alec entreated, hands held up as he backed away from the man's advance.

"Were you two fucking behind my back the whole time?" Logan raged. "Or did I just stumble in on the rekindling of your _relationship_?"

"You make the word 'relationship' sound so dirty," Alec said blandly. Logan came at him but Alec's hard shove sent him stumbling backwards and away. "Playtime is over." He grunted, his patience fraying, and yet not wanting a throw-down with the older man, mostly because he knew he'd win and he didn't want to have to explain to Max, when she was herself, how he'd shamed her boy-toy. Sometimes he thought that Logan, in his super-hero mentality, forgot what he was dealing with. "I'll take Max back to our place. She'll be safe there." Alec finished, mentally chafing at having to play nice.

Logan looked between Alec, watching him in barely concealed annoyance, and Max, just looking back and forth between the two men in wide-eyed confusion. He didn't want to leave her alone… but…

"Last I heard,_ I_ was her boyfriend," Alec said blandly.

Max turned beet-red.

Logan stormed out.

The door swung shut and all the strength and steel fled from Alec's tight body. He sighed, slumping, suddenly tired. And glanced at her, muttering. "God, you are so kicking my ass for that when you remember everything."

"What?" Max asked, even more confused than before.

"Nuthin'." Alec grunted, moving to the side of her bed, opening the drawer there on the nightstand and digging out some of her clothes for her.

"So, you n' me, huh?" Max asked, swinging her legs off the bed and standing slowly. Alec shrugged, tossing the clothing on the stiff white hospital sheets for her. The clothes she'd been wearing when they'd pulled them from the rubble had been trashed days ago. He'd made a run by their apartment right after dropping her off at the hospital, graciously giving Logan some time alone with her comatose body, convinced she'd wake up in no time… When she didn't wake up right away, he'd thought…

But it was fine, she was awake now and that was what mattered. He opened his mouth to correct her about the status of their relationship when she paused, hesitant, before pulling the tie at the back of her neck, pulling the hospital gown slowly from her body. He watched, just for a moment, his gaze turning heavy, darting downwards. Max would undoubtedly kill him for it when she remembered, but it took him a good moment to turn away, clearing his throat.

Max blushed under his narrow-eyed, hungry gaze. And scowled when he turned away. Some boyfriend.

Maybe… maybe he just didn't think she could handle anything, so soon woken from her coma. Or maybe it was the amnesia that bothered him. Whatev. She got dressed quickly, embarrassed, slipping in to the dark clothing he had laid out for her. She frowned at the dark leather gloves, and slid them into the back pocket of her jeans.

"All set?" He asked, watching her once more as she pulled her hair from her t-shirt.

She shrugged.

The ride back to T.C. was a tense one. Well. Tense for Alec. Fun for Max. He almost swerved into a truck when she pressed into his back. Almost hit a fire hydrant when her fingers slid down, against muscle-

The motorcycle came to a stop before their building and he pulled away very carefully, trying not to be annoyed, trying not to be turned on. "Max," He warned, lifting himself from the bike and distancing himself from her.

"What?" She shrugged, smiling crookedly, still on his bike. "I'm just lettin' my boyfriend know how much I missed him."

"You barely even remember me!"

"All the more reason then," She grinned. Alec blinked, 'cuz he'd never seen such a strictly playful expression on her face before.

He looked away. "Come on, I'll show you the place."

"So," She made conversation as they tramped up the stairwell of the ramshackle building. "Livin' together, huh?"

He shrugged, glancing back at her. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. We're running out of sanitary places to house everyone… and since we're always together anyway, we figured, what the hell."

Max frowned. Wow. That was a big step. Alec didn't notice. 'Cuz he'd meant it strictly in an 'always together as S.I.C. and Commander' platonic sort of way. Hence the two bedrooms. It didn't occur to him that Logan wouldn't have filled her in on his status as her second in T.C.; although, really, he probably should have assumed that Logan'd spent all of his time telling her about her importance, and his role in it all, and trying to convince her of their destined relationship, keeping mention of Alec to a minimum. And that, as a blank slate, she had no reason not accept Alec's slightly more believable statement that he was her boyfriend. More fool, him.

Down a corridor, a dark wooden door at the end, she watched his leather clad back before her, trepidation growing. She followed him into the dark apartment, almost hesitant, nerves shot by the total upheaval of her life; what if she didn't recognize anything, what if-

He flipped on the lights, ignorant of her fear, and tossed his keys to the sidetable, un-shouldered the pack that he didn't really need anymore, seeing as how neither of 'em worked for Jam Pony anymore, but that was still useful for lugging stuff around. Which, he didn't care what Mole said, did not make it a man purse.

Max stepped around him, almost nervously, and her eyes brightened almost immediately. She smiled at her baby, her Ninja, sitting in the living room… Lookin' like it hadn't gotten a good update in a while, if what she'd seen in those motorcycle mags were to be believed. God, what had happened to her to make her neglect the most important thing in her life? Well, from what Logan had told her in the hospital, guess she was kinda important… And Alec was too, apparently, as her Second, if what she'd overheard when Alec was chewin' Logan out was correct. Still, knowing about it in theory, and seeing it all in reality was a big difference. She'd blinked in confusion when they'd been let past some kind of secret barrier into Terminal City and had clutched Alec a little bit tighter as something frighteningly close to the Nomlies of her childhood had nodded in greeting at her, a smile blossoming across his/her/its face. And there had been another X-5 there as well and Max had chafed at his familiar nod of greeting…

Everything was all so… wrong.

She shut down the thoughts, focusing on the things that were easier to grasp, for now. Her eyes swept across the room. It was an okay place. Not much furniture, the large screen TV almost seemed out of place. The apartment itself wasn't bad. A little nicer than the place she'd shared with Kendra, even. There were an awful lot of empty liquor bottles littering the place though. Her eyes darted to Alec, wondering who had the drinking problem; him or her. Not that they could get drunk, but still. Other than that, the place was in almost spotless order, in surprisingly good condition, despite the outwards appearance of the building… Except the window that opened to a fire escape landing was broken.

_Goddammit, Max! I won't let you do this!_

_He hurled the black device, ignoring her sounds of protest. The pager crashed through the window, sent shards of glass flying, before bouncing on the metal of the railing and plummeting to the earth below. _

_She turned on him. _

"Max?" He asked softly, when she whirled to him, her face twisting.

She blinked, pulling herself away from the half remembered dream, and looked away from him. "Sorry." She muttered before glancing at him. "Where's the bedroom?" Then shrugged. "Nevermind, I'll find it. Room with a bed, right?" And stalked across the room, threw open a door, and stepped into the bedroom.

His bedroom.

Damn. He crossed the living space quickly.

"Max, that's my-" He retreated out of the door quickly as he caught her pushing down the jeans he'd provided her with. He took a deep calming breath, telling himself to relax, they're just friends, and peered back in, in time to catch her pulling her bra off from under her shirt.

Crap.

He walked back to the couch and threw himself upon it. She was probably still tired. Shankar had a point about not moving Max so soon after her ordeal, but… well… Logan was insistent. And he'd had a point. Alec didn't want orderlies calling in the CDC again… and he definitely didn't want White to make an appearance, either. Better to let her recuperate in the safety of her own bed…

Or… well… his bed, apparently.

Max shook her head, only slightly put off that he didn't join her. Couldn't blame him though. And part of her was kind of glad he hadn't gone straight for the snuggles; not that he exactly looked the type. He looked more like the 'rocks women's worlds' type. But anyway, she didn't mind, because Max was still slightly unnerved by the whole thing. Unnerved by the amnesia. Unnerved by T.C. in general. Unnerved by their relationship. Unnerved that something inside of her strained to remember him, told her something about his voice was important- But whatever it was she was trying to remember… it was just like grasping at water, it all slipped through her fingers, and Max finally sagged back into pillows, tired and frustrated.

And that night she dreamed. Of darkness closing in. Suffocating her. And a sudden blaze of light and a voice, calling her. Max. Max, don't leave me. And no, she couldn't leave him, or any of them, she had to go back. And a voice of fire and ice, hope and despair; Max, I love you.

Max sat up, willing her shuddering gasps to calm. A dream? A memory? The room was still dark; still night. The green numbers of the alarm clock by the bed read 3 AM. She could hear the sound of his even breathing out in the living room and the soft sound of the TV; he was still awake.

_…awake. Max, open your eyes, you've got to stay with me. _

_Hurts. Head hurts, everything hurts._

A memory, then, and not a dream. Max swung her legs off the bed, buried her face in her hands. These flashes, glimpses of her other life, or at the very least, of the accident that had left her an amnesiac, were starting to annoy her. Little disjointed puzzle pieces that made no sense, 'cuz she had no bigger picture, no frame of reference, to draw from.

She moved through the room, bare feet silent against thick, tan carpet, and leaned in the door, watching him. Watching the soft blue light of the TV play against his face. He looked tired. The empty bottles that had been around the apartment had been cleaned up, but there was an open bottle before him, a half-filled glass on the coffee table. Maybe he wasn't just physically tired, judging by his pensive expression.

"From what I remember of my brother, he didn't have any shark DNA. So, I'm guessing that you don't, either." She said gently.

His eyes slid to her. He shrugged, leaning forward to grab at his glass and take a swallow.

She sagged in the doorway. "Look, I get that everything is… weird-" She ignored his snort, like, that's the understatement of the century. "But… why don't you… just come to bed." She shifted from one foot to the other before teasing gently. "I promise I won't bite."

He set his glass back down, stretched slowly, shaking his head with a rueful laugh. Oh, Max if only you knew what you were saying. Max's mouth went dry as he moved long limbs and she felt her body flare to life, like it had in the hospital, like it had on the bike when she'd been pressed to his back, right before she'd bitten the bullet and gotten playful. And she shifted again in discomfort. Holy crap, as the _want_ curled her toes and crawled up her legs. The frustration was sudden and staggering. It was like… like… like she hadn't gotten any in a year and a half or something. And she was once again struck by the strange, animal-like urge to jump him. It faded only slightly when his stretch tapered out and he relaxed back into the couch… looking like he wasn't planning on going anywhere.

"Hey," She said from the doorway. He glanced across at her, at long, bare legs and the black t-shirt. And looked away.

"Yeah?" He pretended nonchalance, but she caught the way his eyes kept darting to the hemline of her shirt.

"So, you coming to bed or what?" Max asked, shifting from one foot to the other but this time not in discomfort.

He sighed, sitting up. "Listen Max, about you and me-"

Oh god, was he gonna break up with her? She just woke up from a coma and already her track record with men was provin' all too true? Max didn't know how her twenty-one year old counterpart dealt with these kinds of situations, but she… kind of wanted to hurt something and then go crawl in a hole…

He fell silent at her horrified look, at her fist clenching at her side. "Just forget it," He sighed. "We can talk about it tomorrow."

"No, we can talk about it now." She pushed away from the doorway, and staggered as she was hit by a wave of dizziness. But suddenly Alec was there, holding her. The feeling of surety, Alec was here, seemed familiar, a strange comfort in a world where nothing was familiar. She let him lead her back to the bed, and she didn't protest, but only because-

Alec grunted as she pulled him down with her and rolled them both 'til she was straddling him.

"Were you going to break up with me?" She demanded, her hands resting on his chest.

"What?" Alec asked in shock, "No!" 'Cuz they weren't dating in the first place, and ooh, as her thighs tightened around him, this was so not good.

Max smirked in smug satisfaction, leaning down into him. "Good, 'cuz I'm pretty sure that I like you." She smiled, and brushed her lips against his, just for a moment, before pulling slightly away to gauge his reaction... and it was a good one. His generous lips, still parted, his expression a little shell-shocked. His eyes refocused upon her, darkened, not in anger, and she hesitated only slightly before she caught his mouth again, this time more insistent, her fingers fisting in the soft material of his shirt before traveling up, pressing against his face, gasping against his mouth when he started to respond.

He rolled them easily, her leg automatically hooked around his waist, and don't be a chump, Alec, this is not a good idea at all, doesn't matter how worried about her you were, how much you missed- He broke away, shuddering, and her hips rolled into his, into his awakening body. She nibbled at his jawline, and his forehead collapsed into the hollow of her throat, his hips rolling an answering refrain, pulling a gasp from her lips and into his ear.

"Max," He grunted. Her tongue followed the shell of his ear and his head arched, the cords of his neck standing out in relief as he clenched his teeth. Her mouth followed the tense lines of his throat and he hissed. "Max… Max this isn't a good idea,"

"Why not," Max demanded, breaking away and wiggling against him, tugging his shirt free from his jeans. "We're dating, right? Just looking at you is driving me _crazy_. I feel like I'm going to explode. How long has it been since we've done anything?"

Alec blinked down at her. Something deep, deep inside of him crowed that, not only, was Max turned on by him, but she'd finally admitted to the sexual frustration she'd used to insist she didn't feel. The rest of him tried to do the responsible thing as her hand slipped under his shirt, trailed across his abdomen, and he was forced to watch. "Max, maybe we should…" He hissed as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans. "Wait," He finished with a gasp, his head hanging, eyes clenching, as a hot hand grasped him.

"Wait? 'Til I get my memories back? That might never happen. I'm horny _now_." Her hand slid against him.

"Fuck," He muttered, glancing away. She watched in fascination as his jaw clenched, eyes tightly squeezed shut as she drew another shudder from him. His eyes opened once more and she heard him mutter, "What I would give to have met you at nineteen."

Max dismissed that statement for now. Alec kicked himself for every pass of her hand over his hard flesh, kicked himself for leaning down and pressing a brutal kiss to her mouth, for his hesitant hand, sliding up her side, under her shirt.

"Ah, crap, Max, I can't do this." He finally broke away, disengaging carefully. "Not that I don't want to," He muttered as he leaned away from her, back into his knees, eyeing her splayed legs in obvious interest.

Max huffed in annoyance, pushing herself up by the elbows. "Now what's wrong?"

"Let's just, wait… okay?" He ran a hand through messy hair. "Until you get some more of your memories back."

"But that might never happen," Max replied in dismay. And threw her head back, smiling slightly when a large hand slid up her thigh and he muttered, "I know," like it pained him.

But then he pulled away once more, and her scowl made a reappearance.

"Trust me," He said blandly. "You'll be thanking me later."

"I doubt that," She muttered petulantly, flopping back down and rolling to her side, away from him. He sighed, standing slowly. She thought he was going to move back into the living room, so she was pleasantly surprised when she heard him pull the shirt from his body and kick his shoes off, collapsing back down behind her. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, proof that he was as tired as she'd thought he was. Took even less time for her to roll and face him, to study him in the soft darkness.

She… she wanted to memorize him. To remember him. Something about him was important, but she just… couldn't…

_Cure… had to get the cure. And stupid Alec, of course he saw a trap in every shadow. But he'd been right when he'd thrown away her pager, why did he always have to be right? She was walking towards him, angry, but he was running, shouting, get out, get out, it's gonna-_

Alec woke up to a warm body, curled into his side, whimpering. A head of dark hair against his shoulder. A thin arm, wrapped around his chest. The disorientation was staggering. The contentment even more so. The contentment and the accompanying shock was what cleared the rest of the fog and he blinked at her sleeping form for only a moment before slipping from bed and pulling a clean shirt from his dresser, throwing it on. He paused in the doorway, looked back at her sleeping form, before sighing and moving out of the room.

_The world was falling down around her and she only had a moment to make her decision, to twist her body, to see Alec's horrified face, twisting in anger, before there was a sharp pain at the back of her head and everything went dark. _

She dreamt of darkness and fear and clawing her way up a bottomless well, but no one was coming. Where was Alec? Alec always-

_Don't leave me, Max. I can't… I can't… _

She sat up, breathing heavily. She was alone, sweaty, dizzy. She collapsed back into the pillows, stared hard at the ceiling overhead. Finally she sighed and pushed herself out of bed. There were some clothes folded at the end of the bed. What, did he think she couldn't choose her own stuff? Whatever, she grabbed them anyway and headed for the bathroom.

The shower washed away some of the surreality of the previous day, cleared away the dark horror of her dreams. And when she got out, pulled on her clothes, she slid a hand against the fogged mirror and stared hard into it, at the woman she'd become. Lank dark hair. And damn, she was thin. What happened to the curves? Well, if she was as busy as she had a feeling she was, guess exercise had shaved some of it away, left a lot of lean muscle in its place. Not that she still wasn't smokin' hot… But something would totally have to be done about that hair eventually. It made her look… _older._ She made a face.

He'd made her breakfast. Before he'd run away like a little girl. She was so talking to him tonight. But for now, she ignored the eggs, grabbed the toast, traipsed back to the center of the room and hugged her poor, neglected baby.

"Don't worry," She murmured to the Ninja. "I'll get you updated real quick like."

Alec came in later that day, bearing Chinese take-out and a nervous tic. Especially when he realized she wasn't home… And her bike was half-taken apart in the center of the room. He'd just whipped out his phone to call Logan when Max slipped back in to the apartment, a duffel thrown over her shoulder.

"Honey, I'm home," She called, smiling cheerfully when she caught sight of him. Her eyes glanced over the take-out and her smile widened. "Great! I was hungry." She dropped the duffel in the center of the room.

"What's in the bag?" Alec asked, shoving his phone back into his pocket and pulling the containers from the plastic bag.

"Stuff for my bike," She shrugged, crossing back to the kitchen and leaning into the counter next to him.

"Damn," he smirked, "Didn't know you had that kind of cash, or I woulda borrow-"

"I didn't," Max shrugged, poking through the boxes, in search of something that interested her. Her eyes lit in glee as she came across something so obviously chicken.

"You didn't?" He asked in confusion, turning to pull open a cabinet and grab her a plate, handing it off. "Then how did you-"

"What's with all the questions?" Max scowled, almost yanking the plate from him, fixated almost entirely now on the cardboard container.

"Oh my god, Max," Alec's eyes went wide. "Did you steal stuff for your motorcycle?"

"Is that a problem?" She huffed, setting the plate down on the counter with a clack and turning to him in annoyance.

"Did you at least steal it from a bad guy?" God, what was with his shit-eating grin?

"Only if that warehouse in Sector Two is the anti-Christ. Why? Should I have?" She rolled her eyes, arms folding under her breasts.

Alec snorted. "Don't tell Logan. He's liable to have a fit." Alec turned to grab himself a plate. "Oooh, I'm so giving you shit when you remember this,"

Max huffed and slammed her palm down on the counter, "Okay, that's it!"

"What?" He frowned, turning back to her, plate in hand.

"Why do you keep saying stuff like that?" She demanded. "Stuff you're gonna use against me, like wanting sex or stealing some stuff for my bike? News flash, everyone likes sex, and nobody has the kind of money it takes to maintain a good bike nowadays! Stop treating me like I'm some kind of repressed freak with a stick up my butt!"

Alec had to bite down hard on his lower lip to control the rolling laughter that threatened to erupt.

"Now what?" She hissed.

His eyes were still twinkling, but he managed to open his mouth without letting mirth spew forth. "Max," Alec grinned, "I don't know how to tell you this, but… you kind of are."

"_What?!"_

"Maybe… maybe you were different when you were nineteen… but now?" He explained with a shrug, "Now you're all about responsibility and transgenic rights. About stealing as little as possible, and only from the bad guys. About avoiding fun unless it's with Cindy…" Alec sighed, and bit the bullet. "About avoiding romance unless it's with Logan, and… well… avoiding sex in all its shapes and forms."

"Romance… with Logan?" Max made a face.

"Yeah, I don't get it either." He muttered, turning back to the counter, setting down his plate, the conversation suddenly losing its humor.

"But… but we're dating!" She said dismayed. Oh god, they had to be dating… or she'd made a complete ass of herself last night.

"No, you just told Logan we were dating to keep him away." Alec grudgingly admitted, unhappy to admit he'd made a complete ass of himself last night. "Manticore set up a virus in your blood and-"

"But I'm not even attracted to him!" Max cried in distress, ignoring all that other stuff.

Alec cocked his head, his mouth opening and closing as words came and died in rapid succession. Finally he managed a stupid, "What?"

"How can I be crazy about him when all I get when I look at him is a vague sense of… disappointment and guilt?" She demanded.

"I dunno," Alec grunted, his brain trying to wrap around what she was saying. "You two used to run a lot of missions together," He offered, wondering why he was trying so hard to convince her of her love for another man. "Maybe you bonded over that or something."

"Oh my god!" Max cried in horror, "I started dating an old guy because of adrenaline?!"

"Max, don't be so hard on yourself," Alec was trying so hard to be sympathetic. But the urge to laugh, almost hysterically, was building again. This was so not how he'd pictured this conversation going.

"So what the hell were you and I?" She demanded.

"Friends," Alec shrugged. "Enemies. Roommates. Partners."

Her eyes glanced over his face, down to his lips. "Friends? You didn't seem to mind too much when I kissed you last night."

The corner of his lips quirked. "Ours is a… unusually charged relationship." He almost laughed.

He didn't.

But only because her lips smashed against his.

He broke away, "Uhh, Max, what are you doing?" He watched in a numb sort of fascination as she pulled his shirt from his jeans and her hand slipped underneath to caress skin.

"Proving something." She said grimly.

"Proving what?" He gasped as she tugged a button free and her hand slipped into his jeans. Oh crap.

"That I'm normal," She sniffed. And please, like he could pretend he didn't want her, when he was already hardening for her.

"Normal? That's the last thing you are," He grunted, his fingers clenched against the edge of the counter top. For some reason, his words… pleased her. And she moved to capture his mouth once more… But he pushed her away.

"Oh, come on!"

"You have amnesia!" Alec shook his head.

"And you have intimacy issues," Max rolled her eyes. "Let's screw,"

Alec snorted. Before realizing he was tryin' to be the adult. "Can't let anything happen, Max," He shrugged. "Sorry." And he booked it out of the kitchen, leaving the Chinese there on the counter, and into the bathroom. The sound of the shower cutting on annoyed her.

She left the chicken, left the bike parts, and stomped over to the door that separated her from the only thing she wanted right now. "Stop being a big baby!" Her fist pounded on the barrier.

"This is for your own good, Max!" He shouted back.

"I think I can decide what's for my own good! I'm twenty-one for chrissakes!"

"You're a twenty-one year old that thinks you're nineteen," He cracked open the door to frown at her, shirtless. "That's not exactly-"

She shoved her way in. "Okay, so I get it, I don't remember everything… But… but I know, that when I'm with you I feel…" She trailed off, pensive.

"Horny?" Alec snarked, leaning into the sink. So much for maturity. She looked up in annoyance, her eyes catching on his bare shoulders, at a large, fading yellow and black mark, a bad bruise that was in its last stages of healing.

She glanced at his face, dismissing the mark for now. "I feel… something. I don't know how to explain it." She watched him for another long moment before adding softly, "And… And I keep hearing your voice. At least... I think it's your voice..."

"How hard did you get hit in the head?" He asked blandly.

She sighed in frustration. "I mean… from my memories. I remember darkness and thinkin', knowing, this is finally it. But I keep hearing you calling me back…" Her eyes darted to his suddenly still form.

"What did I say?" He asked quietly, all playfulness dropping away.

Max shifted, and looked away. "Sometimes, in my dreams…" Max looked back towards him, her mouth going dry, her voice going soft, her memory finally, finally supplying her with the reason why his voice was so important. "And right before I woke up in the hospital, I heard it again." Her dark eyes probed his. "Sometimes… Sometimes you say that you love me,"

"Christ," Alec muttered, pushing past her.

"Alec," She came after him.

He turned on her, shoving a hand unhappily through his hair. "Listen, Max, that whole day was just really… and then the building came down so fast, and… I dunno," He grunted, "I don't really remember everything I said," He finished, his voice hard.

Max's shoulders didn't sag. They squared. Her face didn't fall. It hardened. "So, you're telling me _if _you did say it, you didn't mean it,"

He paused, before licking dry lips and letting his eyes dart away and back. "Yes," he finally nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying,"

Max didn't know what to say. It was just like all the other times she'd felt the harsh sting of rejection; she shut down. She shut down and she ran.

Alec didn't move, not until he heard the front door slam. And only then to turn to the mirror, the sound of the shower still in the background. He looked hard at his reflection. "Idiot," Alec muttered to himself.

Max didn't really know where she was going. Her bike was in pieces in her living room. So it's a good thing she'd swiped Alec's keys from the counter before booking it out of there.

Asshole.

She drove. Didn't really know where. Made her way out of the heart of T.C., pretending not to feel claustrophobic everytime she saw a barcode. She was so used to blending in, to being the only one, to holding that secret knowledge that she could whip anyone's ass when she damn well felt like it…

"Max?" Someone asked from the sidewalk, when she was stopped, just staring around, wondering where she was. "Max, are you okay?" It was a woman, reddish hair, a baby held in her arms.

"Yeah," She said, then took a chance. "Hey, have you seen Logan?"

The woman did recognize the name. She shrugged, "He's probably at his place."

Max shifted in discomfort on her stolen… ahem… borrowed bike. "Do you know how to get there from here?"

Gem blinked.

"Just got… kind of turned around." Max shrugged.

Gem told her, patiently. And as soon as Max roared off on Alec's motorcycle, she shifted Eve in her arms, dug into her pocket to pull out a cell phone, and promptly called Alec.

Max let herself in. Followed the sound of splintering wood. Looks like someone was taking out some aggression. She paused in the doorway, watched the man's foot go through another plank, watched the contraption over his legs compress and release. Wondered at the guilt that surged.

He must have felt her presence because he paused, and turned. And frowned, unsure, wondering why she was here, hoping she'd remembered him. "Hey."

"Hey." She said back, pretty blasé. Logan got his answer to an unspoken question. She didn't remember him. His Max put all sorts of meanings into one 'hey'. This Max sounded like the Max he'd known a long time ago, a Max that just didn't care.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, instead.

Maybe she was just desperate to make a connection. Desperate for someone to want her… She didn't know… but it all just sort of came spilling out… Most of it, anyway. Not the 'Max throws herself at someone who doesn't want her' part.

Logan, sitting now, was frowning. "So you two… were never really dating?"

"That's what he says," Max shrugged, shifting, looking down at her feet.

Logan… wasn't as surprised as he rightly should be. It all suddenly began to make more sense. Why Alec just kind of dealt with all of Logan's petty jealousy (and Logan was well away that a lot of it was petty, but he just couldn't help it), but just swallowed it all, said nothing, and moved on. 'Cuz he wasn't really with Max, so he couldn't really get defensive back. And he couldn't own up that he was lying for Max's benefit, so he just shut his mouth…

Rather than being happy about this sudden discovery, Logan was suddenly very, very annoyed. And well aware of what a prig he'd been in the last couple of weeks. All because… because…

"You lied to me," He said flatly.

"Hold on," Max protested. "I didn't lie to you, that other Max lied to you."

"You're the same girl…" Logan shook his head. "Or… well… you will be again someday." He frowned, looking away. "All this time, I thought we were connected, that we could share anything with each other. That we could fight through anything together,"

Max realized she should feel dismayed right about now, but how could she when she still didn't really know this man? He caught her expression and laughed softly. "I guess," He said grudgingly, "We should save this conversation until you remember."

Max had a feeling it was not going to be a pleasant conversation. Full of guilt and shame and 'I thought I meant something' and blah blah-bity blah. "Sounds fun," She muttered.

Logan was staring at her musingly, her tone making something within him snap. "You know, I'd thought the Max that you were was different from the Max of nineteen; the Max that you are again. And in many ways, you've come a long way. But do you even realize how much you've hurt me? Or how wrong it was to use Alec like that?" Logan shook his head, "I thought he was your friend,"

"Hey," Max shrugged, "If you're feeling guilty because you've been acting like an asshole towards him, that's not my fault,"

"Not completely, no," Logan shook his head, "but it many ways, yeah, you had a hand in it."

"Has it always been your job to make me feel bad about myself?" Max demanded, defensive, as she recognized the truth in his words. "Or is this a recent development?"

"Max,"

Everything that she'd been building up since she'd woken up came spilling out. "I get that 'your' Max might see something in you, but I'm not her, Logan. 'Your' Max might sit around for your parental type speeches as you guide me down the path of righteousness, or whatever… but I'm not that girl. How can you lecture me about something I don't even remember doing?" She sighed, running a hand through long, flat hair that she was still trying to get used to. Hers hands dropped, fisted on her hips, and her face twisted, "When we met two years ago, maybe I did see something in you. But let me tell ya, pal, the Logan Cale that's sitting before me today, the Logan Cale that harasses me in a hospital, tries to morally correct me, that's not the type of man that I'd fall for again," She finished with a sniff.

"Max," Logan blinked.

"What?" She demanded.

"Do you realize that I never told you my last name?" He asked.

She'd remembered it on her own. She was about to open her mouth, dismissing its importance, when the air seemed to rush around her, rushing in towards her, as neurons fired, snapping together. It was getting sharper now, like the focus on her life-

She was all but propelled into the memory.

_Logan was paging her again._

_And Alec was shouting at her. And she was shouting right back._

_He'd thrown her pager out the window. And he followed her all the way to Command, arguing the whole way. Alec was one of the only people that didn't back down from her, that gave back as good as she could give._

_"I won't let you do this," _

_"You're not the boss of me!" _

_She didn't know how long they went back and forth on the issue until they were interrupted._

_"Max," Luke leaned over the railing. "We got problems in Sector Two. Trannie trying to outrun the cops. Logan's cure is going to have to wait." _

_Max sighed. 'Cuz that so figured. She turned to ask Alec if he'd deal with the problem… but Alec was already gone. And so was his gun. _

_"Mole, take care of it!" Max hissed, stomping out of Command, off to find her S.I.C., Josh hot on her heels. If it WAS a trap, she sure as hell wasn't going to let him meet that scientist alone. _

_It was a trap. Of course it was._

_She was stomping towards him, gearing up for a good, biting remark, but-_

_"Max, get out, get out," He was shouting, running towards her through the old hotel's lobby. "The whole place is gonna-" _

_The first shock made them both stumble. Alec caught himself and kept running, catching her hand easily. They almost made it to the door when the second resounding boom shook the earth and Alec suddenly yanked her in, tucking her into his body, shielding her, and the world collapsed around them. She remembered shrieking something, maybe it was NO, as she heard him grunt as the first of the debris hit around them, hit him solidly on the shoulder. They were falling, falling to the floor, and goddammit, she was _not_ going to let him die for her. She twisted midair, they hit the ground, and she was on top of him and the last thing she remembered were angry hazel eyes, debris falling around them, and a sharp pain at the base of her skull. _

_She came to in fits and waves. The first time as Joshua dug the rubble away from her back only minutes after the building's collapse. The second, to a warm hand pulled away from the back of her head, wet with blood, and Alec's unusually dark eyes as he stared down at her, his face streaked with dirt, his mouth grim with fear. The third when she tried to rest, she just wanted to rest, but his voice kept calling her back. Her name, the name she normally begrudged him, ringing in her ears. Don't sleep, Maxie. Stay with me. Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me. I can't… I can't… do this without you. I need you._

_And in the overwhelming darkness of her mind…_

_Max, I need you. I… I don't know what that means. I don't know if that's love or something else or what…_

_Fuck, Max. Hell._

_She was leaving him, she could feel it. She didn't want to, but… The darkness was turning lighter. Maybe she should leave. It was all too hard. She just couldn't-_

_Max, I love you._

_The light faded abruptly, the darkness swallowed her up, as life came rushing back._

Something raw and powerful had been in his voice. Fierce and tender. She blinked the memory away, looked at Logan, watching her. Her mouth was dry. Oh god, she'd just told Logan off... but she just couldn't work up enough horror, because... Because the emotion that'd been laced in Alec's voice… Whatever she'd had with Logan, if she'd remembered nothing else, that simple memory and the last day and a half had shown it all so clearly; it'd worn them both down, until she was just an angry shell, chasing at shadows, and he was just a tired man, doing it all by rote. They'd fought for so long, and so hard…

"Max?" It was Alec, leaning in the door when she whirled. "Got a call from Gem. She told me she thought 453 was in town," He glanced between the Max and Logan, looking at each other. "Everything okay?"

Was everything okay? No, everything was most definitely NOT okay. After all the years of thinking she'd never find anyone, that there was something wrong with her, she woke up in a hospital to find out that there were two decent men in her life and she'd alienated them both. Made husks of them all.

"Max," Two voices called after her as she pushed past Alec and out the front door.

Alec and Logan exchanged a glance. And Logan finally, grudgingly, nodded a bit at Alec.

She was sitting on his bike, staring off into the distance.

"Can I come?" He asked softly, and she glanced up at him. Shrugged.

The air atop the Space Needle was windy, like usual. But it helped to clear her thoughts.

"I don't much like him right now," Max finally said unhappily, peering out over a darkening city. "But I know that I'm supposed to."

"Eh, Logan's a good guy." Alec shrugged. "You'll remember that eventually."

"I remember it now," She said softly, and glanced at him.

"Wait," He blinked in confusion. "You... remember? Like... everything?" Alec vaguely wondered if he should scoot away from the edge before she decided to kick him off for the previous night.

"When I was talking to Logan," She admitted, "It all just kind of... snapped into place."

There was only a hint of bitterness there, "Well, Logan saves the day again,"

Max didn't say anything, just kept staring at the city that used to make so much sense.

"Max, you okay?"

She stared musingly at the skyline. Her chin lowered into her arms and she shrugged.

"You know you can talk to me," He prodded.

She glanced at him. Before finally admitting, "When I was in the hospital, I called Logan a perv-dog,"

Alec grinned, "Not something I'm likely to forget. Ever."

"But you, you I was immediately drawn to," She sighed, looking back out, away from him and his smile that shouldn't mean anything.

"Well," He shrugged, "I am Ben's clone,"

She shook her head, "No, I realized you weren't Ben almost immediately," She'd realized he wasn't Ben and she'd trusted him implicatly... and she'd thrown herself at him. Multiple times. And Ohmyfuckinggod. Alec had seen her naked. Her cheeks colored and he must have realized what she was thinkin' 'cuz he snorted.

"Bet you're wishing you had amnesia right about now," He finally grunted.

Yeah, a little bit.

No, she finally decided, she didn't. 'Cuz it was all so clear to her. Her memories seemed sharper than they'd ever been before, and she turned them over and over again in her head.

She remembered her first few meetings with Logan; in her mind's eye she was so young, so naive. The most memorable of those meetings; standing before a mirror, Logan behind her, and recognizing for the first time that she was special for more than the fact that she was made in a lab. And she'd thought, 'here's someone who sees me, really sees me' and it'd been the beginning of the end for her. And then he'd checked her for a barcode. But it'd been too late, her mind was already set on the possibility of something more.

She remembered the year of flirting. Of almosts and what-ifs. Of never being able to just come out and say it, of recognizing their differences, and struggling that much harder because of them. Of the sudden withdrawal from Seattle, to Manticore, where Logan came to represent everything she had lost; her freedom, her choices, everything... Coming out of Manticore, she'd still been unable to be with him, but she wasn't going to let them win, wasn't going to let Manticore dictate her life. Logan was important. What she'd lost, her chance at romance, her ability to choose for herself, was important.

And then there was Alec.

She remembered all of those times, right after Manticore. Grabbing at Alec's shirt. Popping him upside the head. Stopping him with her hand when her voice would have done. The teasing and the fighting and the physical nature of it all; like she'd been reacting to her lack of contact with the other man in her life, like she couldn't resist the draw of touch, if only for a moment.

She remembered looking at Alec across a junkyard, and glancing away as she realized she'd lost another chance with Logan and recognized in a hard, tired part of her heart that she should have known better and that she should have cared more. But she was so tired…

She remembered crying over Logan until there was nothing left but dust, and praying over Logan until there was nothing inside but emptiness, and wishing that the virus wasn't insurmountable as she lied to his face and walked away from him, knowing that the lie shouldn't be so believable, shouldn't make so much sense…

Shouldn't be so easy to fall into routine with someone she was only pretending to date. Shouldn't be so easy to justify living together. Shouldn't know so much about someone she shouldn't care about; shouldn't know of Alec's love for chocolate chip cookies and tell herself she was never leaving an open container anywhere near him again, only to do it again the very next week. Shouldn't know he favored beer over whiskey, but he could only drink hard alcohol when he was upset. Shouldn't know that he always drank when she went over to Logan's for a night of candlelight and longing glances and empty platitudes about 'someday', even though they were the ones that were supposed to be 'dating'.

So, yes. Yes, she'd regained the memory of her love for Logan...

So where were the feelings? Why did she feel so... cold? Is this how she'd always felt? Alone, struggling against the worst of odds, all just to prove she could, long after the fire had faded and only ash remained?

It was enough to make any girl reach out and grasp for something.

Her hand fell atop his own and she gripped his fingers and he glanced down in shock.

She glared at him in warning and, wisely, he said nothing.

Amnesia had been a pain in the ass. But if it was only in forgetting that she could finally learn to live again, she could deal.

"Sometimes," Max said slowly, then added, "At least in this case, anyway… Sometimes, maybe it's a good thing to forget. That way you can see things the way they really are, the way they are _now_, instead of the way they used to be, the way you want them to be."

Alec didn't really know what to say to that. He drew his fingers from hers and for a moment, she felt dismay… until they both looked down, and he rotated his palm underneath hers, clasped hands with her, a more sure connection.

"I meant it, you know," He finally said.

"I know," She replied softly, and left it at that, because though there was the beginning of something there, she just couldn't honestly say it back yet.

But the fact that her mind had added a 'yet' was telling enough.

"You going to sort it out with Logan?" Alec asked. Sort what out, she wasn't sure. Her n' Logan's relationship? Go back to that half-life? Or go to the other end, and end it all together, but with honesty instead of a lie. Tell him that she wasn't dating Alec (Oh, wait, she already had) but maybe... maybe...

"Dunno," She grunted, because she didn't. Only thing she knew for sure was she wasn't gonna let herself be so goddamned empty from now on.

She don't know how long they sat there, breathing the same air, connected by their fingers and palms and feelings.

Alec's voice finally broke the silence. "Max?"

She glanced at him.

He looked back. And smiled slowly. "I always knew you wanted me," He grinned.

Some things never change.

"Likewise, pal."


	5. GH

A/N: Prompts are mine, Dark Angel is Fox's. As for G, it was inspired by that scene in Week of the Cat that didn't go anywhere. Tee-hee. Someone brought up Donna Lynn's Tight Situations on LJ, and after googling and reading it, I have this to say (because I have to protect my ass, because some people are crazy and will try n' pick fights for the heck of it); our styles are totally different, and every DA author with hormones at some point wants to write two fics; one about Heat; and one about what should happen when Alec and Max get stuck in a closet. So, yeah... That's all I have to say about that. (Someone fetch momma and my box of chocolates).

H... Erm... A faithful, fabulous reviewer by the name of vancity.angel put in a request to see my take on the whole 'hand-holding' retardedness at the end of Season 2... and it was going to be snarky and fluffy... and then my muse went insaaane and knocked me unconscious and when I woke up, the fic had practically written itself. And... yeah. Sorry, hun. Heh. I'll be in my bunker, waiting for the fall-out. My Jedi powers shall protect me!

* * *

_G is for Gun_

Rated M

* * *

"That better not be what I think it is," Max hissed.

"What do you think it is?" Alec grunted. "'Cuz if you're thinkin' it's my gun, you'd be wrong."

Max's cheeks blazed and it was a wonder that her embarrassment didn't light the darkened closet they were currently stuck in. "God, I can't believe you,"

"Can't believe me?!" He hissed back, his breath uncomfortably hot against her ear. "It's not my fault my body doesn't distinguish between normal girls and bitchy female types that don't know when to stop wiggling,"

"What was that?!" Like this was somehow _her _fault or something?

He shrugged. "Deal with it, Max. It's not going anywhere," And he shifted under her once more, his sigh mirroring hers.

Another day in the fabulous life of Max Guevara; stuck in a closet for the man that _said_ he loved her but apparently didn't love her enough to get his information on guard change-ups correct, on top of a man that made her want to brain herself on a wall on a good day but just happened to be indistinguishably virile on the one year anniversary of the last time she'd had sex… Could her life suck any harder?

She shifted in discomfort once more, because really, it was way too hot in here, and she was sweaty, and she could feel his hardness against her ass, and it was just too awkward.

"Will you please stop moving?" His voice was almost desperate.

"This isn't my fault! I thought you didn't even _like_ me," She whispered back in a harsh voice.

"I don't, at least, not like that." She could hear his scowl, and his hands coming up to grasp her hips were so out of bounds it wasn't even funny, "But it's hot in here, and you're all sweaty, and you keep shifting,"

"I'm killing you when we get out of here," She huffed.

"No need," He replied blandly, "I'm killing myself. How can I live on, knowing that I have such bad taste?"

Her elbow slammed into his ribs. He grunted. And pinched her, twisting his fingers hard enough to leave a red mark on her hip. She arched back into him in pain, her head against his shoulder, sweaty torso in the air, her ass pressing into him, and he made a sound that was almost like a whimper and that definitely wasn't pain.

She hadn't meant to move against him. To arch quite so provocatively. Really, he should be more worried that she'd hurt him. But oh, Max smiled evilly as he released her and she relaxed back into his torso, she could most definitely win any fight they could have right now.

He must have sensed her thoughts as he caught a glimpse of her smile. "Max, that's so out of bounds, it's not even funny," He hissed against the side of her face.

"Better not piss me off then," She was grinning now, her hands clutching at his thighs.

"Max, _puppies_ could piss you off. Cute little Girl Scouts could piss you off. Little baby animals-" He fell silent with a grunt, teeth clenched together, his head cracking back into the wall of the closet as she sank slowly, down and back up, against him, her arms giving her the leverage needed to tease him mercilessly.

That's it. He was going to kill her.

In a minute. Soon as he got himself to calm down. Yeah.

"Are you done talking yet?" The smile in her voice annoyed him.

"Has anyone ever told you, you fight dirty?" He complained, almost whiny, shifting awkwardly beneath her.

"It's come up, once or twice," She shrugged, her head falling to the side, eyes closing gently in amusement.

His shifting, not so random after all, had put him directly beneath her, and his fingers tightened, digging into skin. The dark smile in his voice surprised her, made her eyes open once more.

"Has anyone ever told you that I do too?"

"Wha-"

Hard hands, holding her steady as he rolled his hips beneath her. The swipe of his tongue, wet, and hot, and perfect, languorous against the skin of her neck. Sweet Jesus. This wasn't how this was meant to be at all. Her breath caught in a gasp, and he was breathing against the hair plastered around her ear, one large hand traveling up, pressing over the sudden aching emptiness in her abdomen.

He was smiling into her ear now, voice low, all easy, masculine, commanding. "How long's it been Max? Two years?"

"None of your business," She hissed back, their strange game suddenly losing some of its glamour, suddenly much too real.

"That long, hmm?" He backed it up with a quick little bite, a bare glancing of teeth, against her ear. She shifted against him with a gasp, her hands squeezing his thighs. He hissed, and his hand slid her shirt up, and his palm was against slick skin, and she wished he could reach inside and take away the emptiness. His other hand, his evil hand, slid from her hip, around to the inside of her thigh, just resting there against leather, unmoving.

He was right. Max knew how to get dirty in a fight, but when it came to sexuality, she had nothin' on Alec.

His hand… it was just… sitting there. How evil could you be?

"You done playing, yet?" He nipped again, at sensitive skin, all smug superiority. "'Cuz this is one game that I'll win, Max,"

Oh, hell no.

He was smirking when her head turned so she could look at him. He was still smirking when she nibbled a bit, tentatively, at his jaw, like he knew she was making a last ditch effort, knew that her prudish nature would reassert itself any minute. Which is maybe why he fell absolutely still when her small hand slid between their bodies, under her ass, and wrapped around him through the soft material of his dark cargo pants.

"What are you doing?" He gasped, his head falling backwards. Too far, he hadn't expected her to go that far.

"Dealing with it," She smirked against his neck.

He groaned.

She tried to disassociate herself from the sound of his head thumping back into the wall, like this was a horrible dream and he was trying to wake himself up, tried to disassociate herself from his fingers curling around her hips, his grunts as her hand slid against the front of his pants, against the hardness of him. He didn't try and guide her movements, try to ask for more, just held on for dear life, and told himself, no matter what happened, not to get off, 'cuz it would break the spell and Max would finally be able to turn around and kick his ass.

"God, will you just get off already," Max finally hissed, her movements stilling.

Something possessed his mouth, made him say something stupid. "Can't."

She turned to glare at him, like, what, was it her?

"It's not that, it's just… you know… pants are constricting," He whined, flinching away from her open palm, raised in warning. "And it's really fucking hot in here,"

Her other hand paused over his zipper, only moments away from taking that one step that there'd be no coming back from. "You know, it is really hot in here," She muttered. "I wonder why."

"I dunno," Alec grunted, and his breath was hot against her ear once more. "This is your dream,"

Max sat up with a start, skin flushed and sweaty and oh god,

"I'm in Heat,"

Had it been a year since that mistake with Rafer already? Someone was pounding on her front door, Christ, this was so bad.

"Max, c'mon, we gotta get there before midnight if we're gonna match-up with the guard changes," Alec's voice was annoyed through her front door. He'd been standing out in the hallway, thumping on her front door, for a few good minutes now... He just wanted to get this over with. He had stuff to do tonight... y'know... like drink, and stare at a wall, and wonder why he always had to play Tonto to Max's Lone Ranger.

Max ignored the frustration in his voice as she rolled out of bed, preparing to tell him that tonight wasn't a good night. But, waitaminute. It couldn't be Heat. Manticore had given her that two year suppressant, so really, she had nothing to worry about. This was no problem, she'd just been really, really horny lately, one year anniversary and all that, and she'd been thinking of their mission when she'd dropped off to sleep, and his voice from the hallway and his knocking might have influenced her dream, too. So, she could handle this, she'd promised Logan after all and-

"This sucks," Alec muttered, underneath her. Max's face was blazing, and she wondered why it didn't light the darkness of the small closet. "Can't Logan ever be right about anything?"

Max shifted again, right before she fell completely still. Her head whipped around towards him, her eyes narrowing. "What the hell is that?" She demanded with a scowl. "That better not be what I think it is,"

"That depends on what you think it is," Alec replied blandly. "'Cuz if you're thinking it's my gun, you'd be right."

"Oh," Max looked forward once more, her cheeks still warm. Alec eyed the back of her head in narrow speculation.

"Max," He grunted, "What, _exactly_, did you think it was?"

Max ignored him. "Is it hot in here?" She asked, instead, shifting slowly against him, pulling hair away from a slightly sweaty neck.

Alec fell completely still as she slowly moved against him, as she arched, almost provocatively, pulling hair away from damp, flushed skin. His mouth was suddenly very dry and his blood seemed a little loud in his own ears. Oh Christ. Please let Max think that's my gun. Please let Max think that's my gun. Please let-

Her hand slid between their bodies.

"What are you doing?" He hissed, trying to press himself into the floorboards, away from her questing hand. Oh crap, oh crap, ohcrapohcrapohcrap.

"Moving your gun, idiot, it's poking my ass."

Was that a smile in her voice or ooooooooooooooooooh-

Hello.

* * *

_H is for Hand_

Rated T

* * *

They raised the flag during twilight. Showed the world that they were here. Alec, standing on the other side of Logan, wanted to go over there and rip it back down. They were insane. They were all insane.

And he could practically feel it, and it made him more pissed off. Feel their hands connected, from this side of Logan. All that meaningless bullshit she'd spouted at him about pushing Logan away, it had all evaporated into smoke at the first sign of trouble. Logan was her crutch. Her safety net. She couldn't take her little baby steps without him; she needed him to guide her through her troubled times. Well, trouble was brewing alright. And not just because she was making him look like an impotent idiot in front of all their friends.

He could have gone over there. Grasped her hand. Shown the whole world who she belonged with. But his arm hurt. He could feel blood seeping out of the wound, soaking this, his newest bandage. He was tired. Drained. He didn't feel the rise of euphoria that Max and Logan were cruising on.

"Now look what you've done," Alec heard Logan smile at Max.

Are you shitting me?

This is something you're happy about?

All he felt was fear.

She didn't know what she was asking of them; staying here, raising a flag… He'd hesitated when she'd silently asked them all to stand by her, to raise their fists into the air in defiance… Because she didn't see. She was spitting in the face of America and America, soon, would spit back. They'd roll out the tanks, and the M-16's, and the young, fresh-faced recruits, raring to see some action… Max just didn't see. And there was nothing he could do to make her see, he realized, as blood made a break for it, rolling down his arm. He looked away from the flag, looked down, and watched in disinterest, watched the red trail curl around his bicep, drip past his elbow, rush across his forearm. Blood. That was real, more real than the flag Josh had just raised. More real than their awkward first grasp at freedom. Blood was real, and would become even more real in the weeks to come. He'd watch as they all fell around him. His friends. His enemies. All of 'em.

Max would soon see that for all of Logan's lofty ideas of fairness, and equality, and what's right, there was a price to be paid. There was always a price for freedom. Always. Not money. Freedom, throughout history, had always been bought by blood.

Now look what you've done. That smiling idiot. The words crashed through his mind over and over again and Alec finally shook himself from his trance of watching the blood drip into his palm, play around his fingertips. The nameless hopelessness and fear and anger surged together and he could stand it no longer. He crossed round the back of the Ordinary, came to Max's other side.

And with his bloody palm, he grasped her hand.

She started, looking down, at her leather-clad hand, held tightly in his.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. Logan glanced over, scowled as he caught sight of Max's other hand, held in Alec's grasp.

Alec kept his eyes trained on the flag. "This is what you're asking of us,"

"Wha-"

His wet thumb swept across the back of her glove, the slight exposure of skin. Wet? Max glanced down in confusion. Blinked at the smear of red across the back of her hand. His fingers squeezed tighter around hers.

"This is what we'll pay," He kept his eyes on the flag, and for the first time in a long time, Max saw a soldier in his solemn face.

She didn't see. She broke away from Logan's hold on her hand, almost having to shake him free, as she turned to Alec. "You're still bleeding," Her now free hand came up to the soaked bandages and her voice became demanding, accusing. "I thought it wasn't that bad,"

The fighting had reopened it. Changing into the Familiar's uniform had opened it again. Raising his fist into the air had reopened it. Changing back into his own clothes for her damn ceremony had reopened it. Clenching and unclenching his fist as they raised the flag, as Logan and Max had reached for one another, hadn't helped either.

He finally looked at her. "What happened to been there, done that?" Her face colored in embarrassment. She'd been in a rush, adrenaline pumping, she knew he could handle himself, and sometimes her mouth operated independently of her brain, so hearing her words, tossed back in her face... Well. She sounded like a cold-hearted bitch.

Another swipe of his thumb, a fresh smear of blood. His smile was hard.

"Don't be squeamish now," He stared at her, unblinking. "Get used to it early on. That way, when all that's left is you and Logan," (because Alec had no qualms, he knew, inevitably, he'd be one of the ones to die in her fight for freedom) "you'll have already learned how to to live with the bloodstains on your hands."

She finally ripped away from him. People were starting to look now, looking away from that symbol of hope. "What's wrong with you?" She demanded.

He shook his head. "I think it's blood loss," He said blandly.

And promptly fainted.

The roof broke into a flurry of activity. Max just blinked down at Alec's form, suddenly on the ground, her mind blank, confused. But then Josh was stepping around her, pushing her unmoving form out of the way in his haste. She was jostled further, back into Logan, as Mole, the sarcastic bastard, pushed past her. Logan stiffened, but clothes, a contact barrier, kept her skin away from his, so he was safe. She whirled to him as everyone else crowded around Alec.

"Are you okay?" Max demanded, "I didn't touch you, did I?"

Mole looked up from Alec's prone body and scowled.

Logan opened his mouth, but she'd already determined he was okay, and her jaw firmed and she waded back into the crowd suddenly surrounding Alec. Josh was patting his friend's face, frowning slightly.

"C'mon, give him some room," Max scowled at the transgenics.

"Go back to your boyfriend," Mole sniffed, affronted on Alec's behalf, "We'll be fine without you, princess."

Josh ignored them both, and lifted Alec's pale form into his arms. He ignored their bickering as he carried his friend from the roof. He ignored their arguing as he pushed into the Med Station. He ignored their jibes as he let himself be hooked up to Alec, the wires for transfusion hanging between them. But as some of his blood pumped into his friend, he finally turned, his patience fraying.

"Mole and Max annoying. Go away."

Max's mouth dropped open. Mole scowled. Rachel, one of the X-5's volunteering as a medic, shooed them both out the door and shut it on their faces. Max and Mole shared a disgruntled glance. And took off in opposite directions down the hallway.

Logan was waiting for her, in one of those hard plastic chairs.

"How's he doin'?" He asked.

"Alec?" Max questioned breezily, waving it away, "He'll be fine." Alec was always fine. It'd take more than one bullet to cut him down.

In point of fact, it took five.

It wasn't the Familiars. It was the U.S. Army. No rest for the wicked, or something like that. They stormed the gates in less than 24 hours, tanks rolling easily over toppled chainlink fence, M-16's blaring in the night, fresh-faced recruits finally getting the action they'd been waiting for. The transgenics were coordinated, soldiers, and they responded to the crisis well. They left 'em living when they could, slipping out of T.C. and into the night, doing what they should have from the beginning; going to ground.

They were home free, and he was snarking at her, where'd you leave your Ordinary, and oh God, they had to go back for Logan, what if he hadn't made it, what if he was still in T.C.?

Logan had taken a bullet to his leg, and Alec let him lean on him as they made their way once more out of the heart of the kill-zone.

Why, God, why had she made him come back with her?

They were almost home free. Almost to safety. The slight noise startled her into awareness, pulling her from their bickering, and she turned in time. In time to gape in surprise and to be too slow.

Alec took five in the back, collapsing with a grunt. Logan got another one in the shoulder. Max escaped unscathed. The two young soldiers that had shot her Second in the back were not marred by bullets, but it'd be closed casket funerals for these two war heroes.

She stumbled, unseeing, eyes wet and blinded with unshed tears, back to Alec's form, prone on the filthy concrete. He was struggling to breathe, but all that air had nowhere to go. She collapsed to her knees next to him, her voice shaky, telling him it'd all be okay, it'd all be alright. But it wouldn't be okay. It wouldn't be alright.

The blood, it was everywhere. It was on her hands as she pressed her palms into his chest, overtop of clean wounds, straight through, and it was all crying and trembling and bitter tears mingling with blood. Don't die, you're a soldier, that's an order.

She didn't even get to say goodbye. One minute he was looking at her, past her, and the next he was gone. And she didn't even get to say goodbye. She shouted and she screamed and Logan pulled her from Alec's skin with latex hands and she'd never hated anyone as much as she hated him. _She just wanted to say goodbye_.

Josh and Mole showed up soon after that. And Mole had looked hard at her dirty, tear-streaked face, and he'd grunted, "I see you again, I'll kill ya," And he lifted the body of his friend and took off into the night.

"Mole just sad, Max,"

Max didn't care. Max wanted to say goodbye.

Or tell him that he was right. Blood. It's what she'd asked of them. It's what they gave her. And the smell of it, the feel of it, the pain of it, it'd never leave her hands. He told her, it seemed like so long ago, that she'd have to learn to live with it. She never did.

The car ride out of Washington was silent. They were in Oregan by nightfall. Max just stared out the window, unseeing, wondering in a numb sort of fog how everything could go so wrong. Logan paid for a nice hotel. He sat on one of the twin beds, clicking on the TV, barely even noticing as she slipped past him into the bathroom.

She cried, alone, in the shower, hunched in the corner. It'd taken her a year to cry for Ben. Maybe she was growing, because it seemed like she'd started immediately for Alec and she just couldn't stop. He... He wasn't supposed to die. He was supposed to be there. Forever. A soft knock came almost an hour later, long after the water had gone cold and she was chattering, and hiccuping, and wondering when the hell the smell of blood would leave her hands. She ignored the knock, and when she finally slipped out of the shower, her head throbbing, her eyes puffy and swollen, Logan was asleep in one of the beds.

There was a loss there, that she never did quite understand. An ache, deep and wide. Maybe it was because of another transgenic, dead because of her, the final straw. Maybe it was because she'd always thought there'd be more time. Time to sort everything out. And in a secret part of her heart, maybe she had always thought that Alec… that one day he'd turn to her and he'd shout at her and tell her she was a fool for waiting on Logan and she'd shout back and maybe… maybe…

It took a week. A week until she was able to leave Logan sleeping in a hotel room in San Francisco. She knew, in theory, that she loved Logan. The reality didn't match the theory so well, not when all she saw when she looked at him was unseeing hazel eyes and a limp body that she was being pulled away from.

She lived in L.A. for a while. And then New York. Miami was too hot and Helena was too cold. She couldn't stay in one place, because she'd turn too quickly and there'd be a flash of brown hair and her heart would stop. A crooked smile from a stranger would curl her toes. An unfamiliar voice would lilt in familiar sarcastic tones and the ache of it was beyond comprehension. She and Alec had barely been friends. He was supposed to fade into the background eventually. She was supposed to marry Logan and Alec would just… fade away… and… everything was all wrong.

This couldn't be right.

How could her life have gone this wrong?

And really, how could she have gone from L.A. to New York in the blink of an eye?

Waitaminute.

Max sat up, chest heaving, covered in sweat. She glanced down, and yes, Alec was there, safe, whole, asleep, arm curled around his pillow. The gunshot wound from Jam Pony was still slightly pink, the skin shiny and puckered, and he shifted in sleep; it was probably itching and bothering him again. The TV was still on, the news channel still showing the smoldering remains of TC; it was bordering on obsessive, the army had invaded a week ago but they were still looping the same damn footage every single night, spouting nonsense about victory. Some channels showed the same footage, but with pointed questions about civil rights, equality, and the inhumanity of humanity. Out the window, she could see the sun rising on California. She reached for the remote and turned off the noise, unwilling to see the senseless destruction any longer, especially after that dream... They'd gotten out in time, Alec was alive, and that was just the most horrible dream she'd ever had.

She lay back down, pressing to Alec's back, making him stir sleepily. "Max, you okay?" His voice was thick with sleep, muffled by the pillow.

She kissed his barcode before letting her head collapse back down to the pillow. Her breath washed across his neck. "Had a bad dream," She murmured. He was asleep once more, but Max could not sleep, shark DNA and what not, so just lay next to him and let the memories take her.

They raised the flag during twilight. Showed the world that they were here. Alec, standing on the other side of Logan, was frowning, and Max got the feeling that he wanted to go over there and rip it back down. They were insane. They were all insane.

He could practically feel it, and it made him more pissed off. Feel their hands connected, from this side of Logan. All that meaningless bullshit she'd spouted at him about pushing Logan away, evaporated into smoke once more at the first sign of trouble. Logan was her crutch. Her safety net. She couldn't take her little baby steps without him; she needed him to guide her through her troubled times, and even she recognized the needy, co-dependant feel of it. Well, trouble was brewing alright. And not just because she was making him look like an impotent idiot in front of all their friends and he'd probably be paying her back tenfold.

He could have gone over there. Grasped her hand. Shown the whole world who she belonged with. But he was favoring his arm, like it hurt him. And blood was seeping out of the wound, soaking his bandage. He was tired. Drained. He didn't feel the rise of euphoria that Logan was cruising on.

"Now look what you've done," Logan smiled at Max.

Are you shitting me?

This is something you're happy about?

All she felt was fear.

Her face was pensive as she stared up at that flag. Frowning. CeCe. Biggs. Tinga. Ben. Dead. Because of her. And she was asking them to stay.

Yes, she knew what she was asking of them; staying here, raising a flag… She'd seen Alec hesitate when she'd silently asked them all to stand by her, to raise their fists into the air in defiance… And she knew why. She saw it all so clearly. She was spitting in the face of America and America, soon, would spit back. They'd roll out the tanks, and the M-16's, and the young, fresh-faced recruits, raring to see some action… Max could see it all.

Only, Alec didn't know that. Thought she was just frowning in quiet contemplation. Thought there was no way to make her see, as blood made a break for it, rolling down his arm. He looked away from the flag, looked down, and watched in disinterest, watched the thick trail curl around his bicep, drip past his elbow, rush across his forearm. Blood. That was real, more real than the flag Josh had just raised. More real than their awkward first grasp at freedom. Blood was real, and would become even more real in the weeks to come. He'd watch as they all fell around him. His friends. His enemies. All of 'em.

Max was growing colder by the second, looking at that flag. For all of Logan's lofty ideas of fairness, and equality, and what's right, there would be a price to be paid. There was always a price for freedom. Always. Not money. Freedom, throughout history, had always been bought by blood. And Max had enough blood on her hands to last her a lifetime. But she'd asked them all to stay, to fight.

What had she been thinking?

It was Logan's smiling voice, crashing over and over again in his head, that finally broke Alec from his trance of watching the blood drip into his palm, play around his fingertips. That made the nameless hopelessness and fear and anger surge together. He crossed round the back of the Ordinary, came to Max's other side.

And with his bloody palm, he grasped her hand.

She started, looking down, at her leather-clad hand, held tightly in his. And frowned at the line of red, down his arm.

"Alec-" She started, her face twisting into something like worry.

Logan glanced over, scowled as he caught sight of Max's other hand, held in Alec's grasp.

Alec kept his eyes trained on the flag. "This is what you're asking of us,"

"What are you talking about? Alec, your arm-"

His bloody thumb swept across the back of her glove, the slight exposure of skin. Her mouth twisted as she looked down at the smear of red across the back of her hand. His fingers squeezed tighter around hers. Her stomach turned. Her heart stuttered and slowed. Blood. Alec's blood on her hand.

"This is what we'll pay," He kept his eyes on the flag, and, glancing up, for the first time in a long time, Max saw a soldier in his solemn face. And it scared her.

She saw it all so clearly. She broke away from Logan's hold on her hand, almost having to shake him free, as she turned to Alec. Alec's blood. On her hands. Soldiers. Fighting. Dying. Alec. Fighting. Dying. That was one thing she could never abide. She'd lost so many already. But now wasn't the time for that. They could argue about whether or not to make their stand after she got him to a Med Station. "You're still bleeding," Her now free hand came up to the soaked bandages and her voice became demanding, accusing. Why had he tried to play it off earlier, act all tough? "I thought it wasn't that bad,"

But the fighting had probably reopened it. Changing into the Familiar's uniform would have opened it again. Lifting his arm into the air for her, changing back into his own shirt for her, would pull at the wound again. Clenching and unclenching his fist as they raised the flag, as Logan had grasped at Max's hand, holding so tight she wondered what he was afraid of, probably hadn't helped either.

Alec finally looked at her. "What happened to been there, done that?" Her face colored in embarrassment. She'd been in a rush, adrenaline pumping, she knew he could handle himself, he was a grown man, a man that, strangely enough, she trusted implicitly. And sometimes her mouth operated independently of her brain. Hearing her words, tossed back in her face... Well. She sounded like a cold-hearted bitch, but she hoped he knew that what she'd meant, what was underneath, was what mattered.

"I'm sorry," She said softly.

Another swipe of his thumb, a fresh smear of blood. His smile was hard.

"Don't back down, Maxie. Don't be squeamish now," He stared at her, unblinking. "Get used to it early on. That way, when all that's left is you and Logan," (because Alec had no qualms, he knew, inevitably, he'd be one of the ones to die in her fight for freedom, and from that horrified look on her face, she knew it too) "you'll have already learned to live with the bloodstains on your hands."

She finally ripped away from him. People were starting to look now, looking away from that symbol of hope. "We're going to a Med Station, _now_." She hissed. Or at the very least, they were goin' back to Command so that Max could stitch him up.

He shook his head. "Maybe that's a good idea. I don't feel so good," He said blandly.

And promptly fainted.

The roof broke into a flurry of activity. Max was on the ground next to Alec and Josh was on his other side. Mole, the sarcastic bastard, jostled past Logan, pushing him further to the outskirts, to where the transhuman believed the Ordinary belonged.

Logan opened his mouth, saying something about getting Alec to a Med Station, but she wasn't paying attention, patting Alec's cheek, frowning slightly. She glanced up.

"C'mon, give him some room," Max scowled at all the transgenics, hovering over them.

"Go back to your boyfriend," Mole sniffed, affronted on Alec's behalf for her little hand-holding stunt, "We'll be fine without you, princess."

Josh ignored them both and lifted Alec's pale form into his arms. Max ignored Mole as she followed Josh from the roof. Mole ignored Max as they pushed their way into the Med Station. Max ignored everyone as she let herself be hooked up to Alec, the wires for transfusion hanging between them. As her blood pumped into her friend, she sighed, letting her head pillow on the gurney next to him.

"Mole and Josh go away," Josh said gently. "Give Max time,"

Max nodded, not even looking up. Mole scowled and she barely heard him make some snark about 'don't kill him while we're away'. Rachel, one of the X-5's volunteering as a medic, was the last to slip out the door, shutting it gently behind her, offering their leader a supportive smile she didn't see. It would open moments later, as Logan slipped in.

"How's he doin'?" He asked.

"Alec?" Max questioned softly, glancing up finally. "He'll be fine." Alec was always fine. He was a survivor. He was her Second. He was one of the strongest men she knew. It'd take more than one bullet to bring him to his knees.

In point of fact, it took five.

It wasn't the Familiars. It was the U.S. Army. No rest for the wicked, or something like that. They stormed the gates in less than 24 hours, tanks rolling easily over chainlink fence, M-16's blaring in the night, fresh-faced recruits finally getting the action they'd been waiting for. The transgenics were coordinated, soldiers, and they responded to the crisis well, especially since Alec had given them the order to prepare for departure, prepare for _anything_, after a long, heated argument, and an even longer heart-to-heart, after getting out of the Med Station, long before the Army had even made it into Washington. They left 'em living when they could, slipping out of T.C. and into the night, doing what they should have from the beginning; going to ground.

They were home free, and he was snarking at her, still a little bit pale, where'd you leave your Ordinary, and oh God, they had to go back for Logan, what if he hadn't made it, what if he was still in T.C.?

Logan had taken a bullet to his leg, and Alec let him lean on him as they made their way once more out of the heart of the kill-zone.

Why, God, why had she made him come back with her? Logan was an Ordinary, she was more a danger to him than the government was.

They were almost home free. Almost to safety. The slight noise startled her into awareness, pulling her from their bickering, and she turned in time. In time to gape in surprise and to be too slow.

Alec took five in the back, collapsing with a grunt. Logan got another one in the shoulder. Max escaped unscathed. The two young soldiers that had shot her Second in the back were not marred by bullets, but it'd be hell to explain to their superiors how a girl without a gun had kicked their asses.

She stumbled, unseeing, eyes wet and blinded with unshed tears, back to Alec's form, prone on the filthy concrete. And almost shrieked in surprise when he sat up and coughed in pain, reaching up and pulling open his shirt, revealing the Kevlar beneath.

"After yesterday," He gasped in pain as she collapsed, hiccupping, next to him, "Knew that somewhere, there was a bullet with my name on it. Had to protect all that blood you pumped into me _somehow_."

"You idiot," She hit him upside the head. Immediatly regretted it. And... and she _hugged_ him. Alec vaguely wondered if he'd died.

"We gotta go," Logan was grasping at his shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers. His vision was going hazy, he was breaking out in a sweat, and-

The virus. Max had given Alec a transfusion, and-

Logan collapsed to the ground and Max's eyes went wide. Max and Alec hovered over him, anxious, unsure. Touching him would only make it worse, but they had to get out of T.C.-

Mole and Josh would appear soon after, ("My hero," Alec would blink lovingly at Mole's snorting form, right before Max popped him for joking when Logan was on the brink of an ugly, messy death) and the five would disappear into the night, to safety.

Josh's blood did the trick. Logan was fine, or, as fine as one man with two gunshot wounds can be. And she went into the shitty hotel room, knowing he'd be pissed.

"I'm sorry, we can't risk it," She said softly. "We're going to ground. I'm leaving for California-"

"Max," Logan shook his head, still weak from his ordeal. "I'm coming with you,"

"No," She said firmly, sadly. "You're not. I can't risk it. You almost died, Logan, _again_. I don't want your blood on my hands. I have enough, already,"

"But Alec's going with you," Logan's voice was bitter, defeated. It'd been a guess, but her silence confirmed it, and he slumped into thin pillows. He was giving up, and Max felt it.

She didn't say it out loud. Didn't say that Alec was a part of her. Maybe not in that sappy, romantic way that poets spoke of, but he was a part of her just the same. It'd never once crossed her mind that Alec _wouldn't _be coming with her. She shut the door gently. She didn't say goodbye, because she didn't know how to. Alec was waiting with a stolen car and some Doritos and she hadn't even asked him yet. He'd just known.

The car ride was silent. She leaned into the door and stared out the window, unseeing, the crumbling of her home and her dreams playing over and over again in her mind.

They were in Oregan by nightfall. He rented them a cheap room in a flea-bitten motel. He sat on the room's one doublesized bed and clicked on the TV. His eyes followed her as she silently made her way to the bathroom.

Max cried alone in the shower, hunched in the corner, and mourned the loss of T.C. so soon after they'd raised their flag, mourned the loss of Logan, the loss of all of her friends, the near loss of Alec, until the water was cold and her teeth were chattering.

The bathroom door opened eventually and Alec stepped in with a sigh. He shut off the water. He pulled her to her feet. He wrapped a towel around her. He carried her to bed in the center of the darkness of the room. He laid behind her, cradling her gently, and said something into the silence, she didn't remember clearly, and said nothing when her head turned and her mouth brushed his, she remembered so clearly. Her mouth became demanding and she twisted to her back, leaving her towel behind, twisted over him, straddled him.

It was a validation of life; she could have lost him, so easily. (Her mouth was wet against his now exposed skin, down his chest.) It was something more; she could have lost him, so easily. (She tugged at his belt and he hardly fought as she pushed the dark jeans out of the way, as she sank onto him.) It was the only thing right in her world now; she could have lost him, so easily. (The sound of them filled the room, pants and soft breathing and neediness; not fucking, but not love-making either, just right)

It was almost a week later. Logan had blown up her pager from day one, so if nothing else, she knew he was safe. The farther away from her he was, the safer he would be. As for Alec, well, the only way to keep him safe was to keep her eye on him. Boy attracted trouble too easily. He wasn't goin' anywhere without her. Her hand trailed down his naked back, across the length of his spine.

"Max, it was just a dream," Alec said sleepily. "Go to sleep,"

Max burrowed closer to his back, her arm sliding under his, against his ribs, tucking around his torso. His hand found hers; really, that was all that mattered.


	6. IJ

A/N: Deep breath! Thanks to src13, wrenbailey, Kare38, Tori-Kit, quirkys (sorry :P), midnightjen, Mahine (she might, if her demands for chocolate aren't met), vancity angel (whew! glad you liked it), PyroDeScorpio2 (no, it just kind of wrote itself that way), darkaznangel452, CherryWolf713, LunaSoleil07, p3karen, Willow-98, aaand Chica, and everyone who reviewed the earlier chapters as well, though it seems like it's kind of the same people every time (dang you guys rock).

I was written because everyone but me likes babies (and even I do when nobody is looking)

J was written for Luna, who wanted some Asha. At times it's glaringly obvious, at times it's a little more subtle. :)

Nic, you're fallin' behind. I think it's because of your rocking chair. :)

* * *

_I_ is for _Instinct_

Rated a soft M

* * *

She had ten little fingers and ten little toes and she was the most beautiful thing Alec had ever seen. She was soft and shiny and new and Alec only held her for a few moments before Max came in and stared at him all funny like. He handed her back to Gem in embarrassment. Eve gurgled happily as he booked it out the door.

She had ten little fingers and ten little toes and she was the most beautiful thing Max had ever seen. Something about her seemed soft and shiny and new and it made some sort of nameless emotion, some mysterious longing, swell within Max every time she came to visit. But that was nothing compared to walking in the door, to having all those feelings amplified tenfold, like a punch to the gut, when she saw Alec holding something so small and so delicate with such tenderness.

"You n' Gem dating?" Max asked, genuinely curious, wondering if someone had finally tamed her friend. It wouldn't matter if he was, she glanced away. 'Cuz like she said, she was just curious. Gem was a nice girl; not like the normal sleaze bags Alec was usually drawn too.

His look said it before his face did, "Max, just 'cuz I'm friends with a girl doesn't mean I'm dating 'em."

"So, then why'd you stop by?" She relaxed back into the terminal, her eyes sweeping across Command. Not that she needed to keep a look out or anything, all they were doing was talking. And Logan was busy on the outside of the fence, anyway, preparing her dinner.

He blinked at her and she glanced at him, reminded, oddly enough, of the stray that Josh had befriended, the cat that could stare right through you, right into you.

Max smirked a bit, "_Aww_, Alec, I didn't know you liked babies."

Alec shrugged, and instead of rolling with it, he shut down, suddenly defensive. "Yeah, well, there's a lot of stuff you don't know about me."

Max sighed as he walked briskly off. While admittedly 'friends', the hot-cold nature of their relationship sometimes threw her. Not that she wasn't just as back n' forth towards him, but still.

He didn't know why he stopped by, honestly. Just knew that looking at Eve; a blank slate, free to explore a bright shiny future, free of Manticore's taint, made something within him long for… something… Made him feel… happy?

But dude, he was macho. Babies n' shit didn't interest him (insert more swearing and maybe some spit here to reestablish manliness, Alec thought to himself wryly). Now, Mole, Mole liked babies; the big scaly mush monster that he was.

"You want me to break you in half?" Mole asked blandly, around his cigar, waving his shotgun in a manly type fashion. "Ain't nothing good can come from babies. Anything that goes in 'em comes out decidedly uglier from one end or the other. They cry. And they stare at you. And some of 'em," Here Mole rolled his eyes, like this was the ultimate travesty, "Just happy for no reason. What's there to be happy about?"

"Please," Alec scoffed, pretending like he couldn't see Max, turning away from them with a small, strange little smile. Women. Always goin' gaga over the babies. "Why you always jumpin' on the chance to watch Eve?"

Mole scowled, finally pulling out his cigar. "I don't know, why are you always going over there? Is kitty cat thinking about starting his own litter?" Max started, proof she had been eavesdropping, despite the fact she wasn't lookin' at them.

"Yeah right, the only reason I'd have kids is to build the perfect basketball team," Alec snarked.

"Well, that counts Max out, then," Mole snorted, and Max turned to stare at 'em in annoyed amusement from across command. "Gotta get someone a little taller if you're lookin' at basketball. Not that princess has a mothering bone in her body, but still."

The pen hit him squarely in the head, made him drop his cigar in surprise. Mole turned around, scowling. "Who threw that?!"

Max had already slunk back to her office. She was in the process of stapling loose sheefs of correspondence together with a little more force than absolutely necessary when Alec finally did come in. He watched her slam the two halves of the stapler together for a few moments, and told himself, no matter what, not to smile.

"Everything okay?"

"_Fine_." Punctuated by another bite of the stapler. "Why?"

Alec sighed. "Max, Mole was just joking. Everyone in T.C. knows you'd make a great mom."

Max's face twisted in disgust and she finally dropped the poor, abused stapler. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, you got the whole mothering instinct down; the way you tried to look after Josh, and me, and all transgenics, really. You're like the unofficial, really bitchy, mama bear of all of T.C."

He saw her hand twitch and winced, but she didn't reach for the stapler and that was good. "Shut up, Alec. If you were my kid-"

"Please say 'there'd be more spanking,'" Alec's eyes fell shut in mock hope, tryin' to lighten the atmosphere, make her come out of her darkness. He dodged out of the way of that weird, magnetic paper clip holder that Logan had gotten her, and watched in disinterest as it hit the wall, sprayed paper clips everywhere.

"Clean that up," Max looked back down at her paperwork.

He didn't, of course, just plopped next to her on the desk, his ass covering some of the papers she was trying to work on. She was scowling in consternation, so he wasn't expecting-

"Plus, with everything that's going on, can you see me with a kid?" The words were dragged out of her and she was still glaring at the desk, at some of the papers he was deliberately sitting on.

"No," He answered honestly and she started, brown eyes swinging up to meet hazel. He admitted, "But only because I just can't picture Logan with kids. He doesn't seem like the type." He tacked on a smirk. "Plus the whole not being able to touch thing? Might make procreation a little difficult."

Max popped him, because popping him was easier than saying she could imagine herself with a baby in some misty, fantasy dreamland, but in reality… In reality… Logan didn't even like kids, and honestly, she hadn't been able to touch him for so long now, that not even her midnight dreams, the steamy kind that she had no control over, had him in a starring role. Honestly, in Max's half-hearted thoughts about one day having a kid; for some reason she was always alone. Like that was her lot in life; to always be alone. Maybe that's why her thoughts had been turning to kids lately. That and the pregnant females pouring in, the plethora of babies suddenly surrounding her. Somethin' she'd probably never have…

His fingertips pressed into her shoulder, because she and Alec had never really fully broken that contact barrier, just for a moment, "Max, you okay?" Fingertips were drawn away and she was able to focus once more.

"Fine," She looked back at her desk, at the papers she couldn't see.

"Tell you what," Alec said cheerfully, "If we survive the whole end-of-the-world thing, and make it to thirty, if we're both still single and-"

"Please stop talking," Max's face twisted in disgust.

"You're right," Alec nodded sadly. "Who could resist the charm of your good buddy Alec?"

"Me, for one. Unfortunately for the rest of humanity, I'm the only one with intelligence. You'll probably have a whole brood of kids by then,"

"And all with different moms," Alec nodded sagely. "Alas, to be so handsome and so virile. It's a burden, but someone's gotta do it."

Max's stomach twisted. "Are you done here? I got work to do."

He stood, shrugging. Max reached for some of her crinkled papers. And fell completely still when his fingers brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, slid down her neck.

"It's not real, you know," He murmured, watching as he slid dark hair away and his fingertips brushed against her barcode. "All it is is instinct."

He pulled away and she remembered how to breathe. Her head snapped up so she could look at him, watch him move away. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"That emptiness you've been feeling lately? That need to bring a child into the shit hole that is our lives?" He turned back as he reached the door, and his eyes were green and hard and fake. "It's just the cat, Max, it doesn't mean anything,"

"It's a fairly human sentiment," Logan shrugged over dinner. "Wanting to bring a new life into the world. Nurture it. Watch it grow."

"And?" Max leaned into the counter.

"And… I dunno, Max. I just don't know if kids are in the cards for me." He turned on her, and was suddenly smiling warmly. "Maybe… maybe one day, though. A son," His blue eyes were soft and soulful and for some reason all Max could see was somber green eyes, _it's not real_.

What was real? What came from the human and what came from the animal?

"What does it matter?" Terry asked when Max went in for her check up. "They're both inside of you, both a part of you. Why, you getting any weird urges? Shark DNA telling you to drink the blood of thine enemies or something crazy like that?"

"No," Max's face twisted. "I was just wondering if the cat…" She trailed off, unable to ask if the cat could make that longing, that need to hold something small and soft, to-

"Max, our brains are strictly human, if designed with higher IQ's and a better than usual ability to retain information. Manticore wouldn't mess with the mind too much, not after some of the mistakes they made with the earlier X's."

"But, instinct-"

"Ah, instinct," Terry shook her head, leaning back into the metal chair, glancing down at her clipboard. "That's the big unknown, isn't it? The deepest urges; what's the human and what's the animal? But honestly, Max, even humans get some animal-like instincts every so often; Eat this, kill that, fuck him, make babies. Difference being, that's what makes us human, being able to control those urges, go against 'em, deny 'em."

"Deny what?" Alec grunted. "I didn't have nothin' to do with it."

"Logan seems to think you did," Max scowled.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Why the hell would I erase all that coding he worked sooo hard on, even though I told him it wasn't sound? Why would I wipe the hard drive, give Dix and Luke a chance to fix the mess that Logan created? I mean, why would I be stupid enough to-"

"It was me," Mole interrupted gaily. "But Alec kept looksies."

Max's brain tried to wrap around Mole doing _anything_ 'gaily', but she finally turned to Alec in anger. But Alec's eyes had fixated past Max and she turned and oh no, something soft and squirmy in bundled up cotton. She swallowed. She could have stayed and reamed Alec a new one, but Logan's program had kind of sucked, Logan had just been lookin' for an excuse to be angry when he'd named Alec as the culprit, and Max couldn't be around something so delicate and warm, because it made her ache in a strange sort of loss. What was wrong with her?

"I know what's wrong with you,"

He'd found her. He always found her.

"The answer is fairly obvious, Alec." Her voice was hard, sharp. "I'm a lonely female stuck in a city crawling with babies, lookin' for an escape from the cold reality that's become my life."

Alec stared at her for a long hard moment. "I was gonna say you need some ice cream, but that could have been a close second."

"I just want to be left alone," She scowled.

The first time she'd said it, she'd meant it and he hadn't listened. This time, he disappeared in silence, and Max wished she knew how to call him back.

She needed something to mellow her, calm her down, and stopping by Gem's, under normal circumstances, would have been a good idea.

He must have just beaten her there. He was sitting on the windowsill, staring down at Eve in his arms, somber, sunlight glancing across his hair, and Max's gut went into a dive. Then she looked up and caught Gem looking at Alec with the same kind of softness and the dive turned into an angry, fiery, crash n' burn. Instinct, she told herself. Not real, she told herself. Breeding partners, she told herself.

"We need to talk," She said blandly, and Alec glanced up.

The coffee was bad, but it was hers.

"Seems kind of far-fetched," He shrugged. "I mean, sure, they matched us up based on genetic compatibility, but why would bein' close to each other create the longing for kids?"

"I dunno, something animal-like and stupid…" It was a stretch. She was graspin'. But she didn't know what to make of her life. She needed some kind of answer. Needed to know why those misty dreams were changing…

His head hung and he was watching her and Max wondered when he'd become her confidante, was it when she'd told him about Ben? Was it when she'd pushed Logan away? Was it when he'd been there for Josh after Annie's death? Was it a slow build that had gradually taken over her life; his hand skimmed over her shoulder, and he pulled her in, and it was a moment of grace in a moment of dark, confused pain.

"Everything okay?" Logan's voice was neutral from the doorway, the wine was in his hand. Dinner was supposed to be done by now but the suckiness of her life had distracted her from the chicken in her freezer. Alec broke away immediately, and Max was starin' at Logan wide-eyed and tongue-tied.

Alec opened his mouth, but Max found the words.

"Everything's fine," She lied. Alec glanced at her, not completely in surprise. And not for the first time, Max recognized how unfair it was. She didn't know how to lie to Alec and she didn't know how to speak the truth to Logan and her life was all wrong.

"You think that's why I keep thinkin' about babies?" Max was staring at the ceiling, flat on her back, the phone pressed to her ear.

"Sugah," O.C.'s voice was doubtful, "Estrus make Kitty Max think 'bout one thing, and it sure as hell ain't babies. Trust me, boo, you _ain't_ in Heat."

Max rolled on the carpet, rested on her stomach, kicked her feet in a gesture that Alec, in the doorway, found both strange and enchanting. She looked decidedly… human… girl-like, not so severe and commander-ish.

"What do you think it is, then?"

"Stress?" She heard O.C.'s shrug through the phone. "Hell, bein' a woman and bein cooped up in T.C., surrounded by tiny, shiny, cute, cuddly, brand spankin' new members of humanity?"

The pause was long and telling.

"Bein' alone?"

"I am not alone," Max snapped, her feet falling back to the floor.

O.C. sighed.

Alec started to feel uncomfortable, cleared his throat, and when her head snapped to him, he waved the copied DVD he'd brought with him, glancing pointedly at her TV set. Josh wandered in at the moment, too, peering curiously over Alec's shoulder at Max lyin' on the carpet. A large smile split his face and he lifted the microwaveble popcorn bag, shakin' it gently.

"I gotta go, O.C."

"Call me later," Cindy said warningly, like they weren't done talkin' 'bout this.

The cellphone snapped shut and was tossed to the carpet. "What are you doin' here?"

"Watchin' a movie," Alec broke the threshold, sauntering towards her.

"Cheerin' up Little Fella," Josh said happily as she sat up. Alec's eyes cut to him severely, but Josh was immune and just did that shoulders-to-ears in innocence thing. Alec rolled his eyes.

"Watchin' a movie and pulling you from your stupor," Alec amended with a huff.

"I just want to be left alone," She snapped.

Josh's face fell a bit. Alec's eyes hardened a bit.

Max sighed.

"What movie is it?" She grudgingly asked.

"I dunno, some action movie with lots of gore and explosions." Alec said blandly. Max's face twisted, but she guessed it was better than a chick flick full of romance and babies and pipe-dreams that'd never come true.

"It better be good," She sniffed and lifted herself to the couch. Josh made for the microwave, Alec headed towards the TV. Josh sat next to her on the love seat. Alec sat on the floor, his shoulder near her knees and she pretended she didn't feel it whenever they accidentally touched.

When the smell of burning popcorn started pervading the air, Josh booked it off the couch, hair flyin', and Max's hand tentatively glanced across Alec's shoulder.

"Thanks," She said softly.

He pretended he didn't hear her, pretended engrossment in the opening credits. But she saw the way his eyes flicked towards her. Josh presented them with slightly burnt popcorn, beaming, and she drew away from Alec and took it 'cuz she could feel Big Fella's sense of accomplishment, providin' for his family. She didn't get why Josh always had to include Alec in his worldview, but whatever. But the thought was a bit fake, a bit half-hearted, 'cuz it'd been just the three of them for a while now. Max tried to focus on the movie.

He'd lied to her.

It was a total chick flick. No blood, no gore. Just romance that put a sick, goofy kind of smile on her face. But as the movie was rolling, so was the mist and figures were coming into focus within her mind. Maybe…

"Gem asked me out," He said blandly when they were alone, when Josh had left to feed Sir Charles, his cat, when it was just them sitting at her dining table. Her head whipped towards him, her mouth pressing into a little line. She pushed her beer away, no longer thirsty.

"And you're telling me this because?" She demanded.

"I dunno," He shrugged. "Thought you might care. You're always telling me to go for someone with class,"

"Honestly," Alec said musingly when the silence dragged too long, "I don't know if she really likes me or if she just likes the way I am with Eve." Max made a face, but he grinned with a shrug. "Maybe I got a little bit of that parental instinct in me too,"

Something surged within Max, not jealousy, but something strong and unnamable. The misty dream-world of earlier with Josh and O.C. in supporting roles. With pink little fists and hazel eyes and the shadow of a man in her doorway- The thoughts braked so hard, it was a wonder there wasn't a squeal inside her own head.

She cleared her throat. "You'd make a good dad," And that was all she'd say, reaching out and taking a swig from her beer.

"Who says I want to be a dad?" Alec scowled.

"Please," Max made a face. "You're a sucker for kids and you know it."

"That's not me," He sniffed. "That's just Manticore's fucked up gene pool, tellin' me to get out there and spread my genetics around a bit,"

Max snorted, her head hanging over her bottle, clenched in her hand. She pretended interest in the dark opening, the amber liquid. Dark hair separated around her neck, leaving smooth skin exposed and he had the oddest urge to lean over and-

He tempered the need by lettin' fingertips glance across black lines. Hid the need for contact when she froze by grunting, "You want me to laser that for you?"

Her eyes were closed. Her voice controlled. "Maybe next time we have to go out the fence."

She waited until he lifted his hand until she started breathing again. He leaned back into his chair, and she turned, lifting her head to look him in the eye.

"Alec?"

"Yeah, Max?"

"Get out."

He coulda scowled but he knew how she meant it; she meant it in a 'I'm a transgenic that's alone and vulnerable and I don't know how to deal with whatever it is that this is' kind of way. "I'm gone," He shrugged and booked it. Her front door closed gently and she slumped into her chair in relief.

And sat up in surprise when it sprang back open, Alec stalked across the room, and yanked her from her spot by the table. His mouth descended over hers and she gasped against him, her hands clenching, weakly, strongly, convulsively, at his shoulders.

It wasn't even fair how calm he was when he pulled away, as his forehead rested against hers, waiting for her shuddering gasps to calm. And when they had, he kissed her again, his hand sliding down her back, drawing her in closer, molding her curves to his body, stopping her breath once more.

He pulled away all too soon, and she all but collapsed back into her chair, starin' at him like he was crazy. Slim fingers came up and pressed against full lips and she just couldn't process a thought. Even Alec looked a bit surprised, before his face went hard, and he whirled and stalked out, lookin' spun, and she heard him muttering, "Fucking instinct, fucking women looking all inviting, fucking-" as he pushed past Logan, now in the doorway, whom he must have seen coming down the hall when he had first stepped out.

Logan looked at the annoyed transgenic, turned back to look at Max, her fingers still against her lips.

"You okay?" He demanded. "Alec didn't hit you, did he?"

"Why the hell did you hit me?" Alec whined.

"Why the hell did you kiss me?" Max retaliated.

He smiled, evilly, a cover to whatever it was he was hiding inside. "I wanted to."

Silence reigned.

"You want to get out of here?" She asked. He blinked in shock.

"And go where?"

"Somewhere that's not here."

"Max-"

"Just for today…" She shrugged like it was no big deal. "I need a day off."

He didn't want to take one bike, grunting she'd probably dump him in a field somewhere and not look back. He gave in when she told him she'd let him drive. She slid behind him onto the bike, the violets and reds of a setting sun throwing their grungy world into a kind of stark beauty.

Max just caught a glance of Logan's wide, surprised eyes as he slipped out the front of Command.

The wind slicing around her body was freeing. It wasn't so bad to not be in control for a change. No conversation, shouting over the wind was pointless, just driving, 'til they were on a half a tank and they were in the middle of nowhere and a deserted field was as good a destination as any when you have no destination.

She'd gotten off the bike, her back to him, but she knew he was watching her with every fiber of his being. She looked across the field. There was no romantic glow of moonlight out here; clouds had rolled in over Seattle and it was a darkness beyond black. This far from the lights of the city, a distant warm haze behind trees, the night was almost like pitch and she could feel the shift, her pupils expanding as cones gave way to rods and night vision took over. She heard him stand; heard his boots dig into soft soil. She _felt_ him stand; like electricity across her back. The air seemed quiet, somber.

"I figured it out,"

"Figured what out?" His voice was a low rumble from behind.

She looked at him over her shoulder. "The why. If it'd been real… If the breeding program had been real, we'd have a kid by now,"

Alec snorted. "Yeah, and you'd also hate me. So?"

"If it'd been real, and it'd just been us," Alec's head cocked to the side and she could tell he was trying to figure her out, but she was still staring into him. "We'd have a kid. That's why I'm all bent out of shape right now. Instinct is telling me I lost something I wanted… but the stupid thing is, I didn't even realize I'd wanted it in the first place."

He was watching her with undisguised intensity, and she finally looked away from him, from the soft look of knowing. She took off running, booted feet pounding into the earth.

She made it about a hundred yards before something whirled her around, crashing into her, and they were rolling through dirt, coming to a stop.

"You're crazy," He said conversationally. Her head relaxed back into earth, hair fanning around her. And he was just as crazy as she was, because he leaned in and he kissed her. Her arms came around his neck, pulling him in closer, arching into him. For now, for tonight, crazy together.

Things were escalating beyond her control; her mouth was losing its gentleness, becoming demanding. Who'd pulled his shirt from his body, her, or him, or both? Who was touching skin, who was gasping a name, who was breathless, panting, with need?

"Come on, come on, come on," He was muttering as he fought with his belt, and she was staring up at a dark night sky, waiting, just waiting. And she blinked when a fat droplet of water hit her right in the eye. Right before the sky opened up and it started pouring. They both paused, just lookin' at each other through the sudden and blinding rain.

It started as a little giggle and erupted into laughter and he just sat up and stared at her like she was insane, until he too was chuckling, shaking his head a bit ruefully, water sluicing down his face.

"I guess you and I… we're just not in the cards, Maxie," He shouted over the rain. She didn't say anything, just let him pull her to her feet, trudged with him through mud back to his bike and a long ride through thunder and rain. She wasn't ready for recriminating eyes and the downpour was miserable and she shouted into his ear almost an hour up the road.

The clerk of the No-tel Motel eyed them, but their money was good, so he slid them a key and went back to his late night soaps. Alec flicked on the light of the small room and Max, shivering, immediately made for the bathroom and a hot shower, pretending she couldn't hear his soaked shirt being peeled off of him. The water was turned on, her clothes were pulled off, and she shivered, looking hard in the mirror. She was naked, her skin was pale, tinged blue, the grungy room was empty but for her, and the water was loud in the silence. But she saw more than that in the mirror, she saw the hard truth; she was naked, cold, and alone.

Alec's head came up when he heard the shower shut off, the bathroom door swung open. His eyes darkened, but he tried to cover it.

"And the sign said we wouldn't get HBO," He snarked, smiling slowly, and pretended he wasn't totally and completely unnerved and on fire.

Beds are overrated. Especially when there are walls around. When there's a man that can lift you easily, keep you pinned without a sign of strain, an ounce of effort. She didn't need a bed or candles or pasta to feel, all she needed, right now, was him. It was odd how silent she was at first; mostly because she was studying him, learning him, learning herself. Girls kick ass, but something about him, holding her there, so completely in control… she exhaled slowly, skin tightening all across her body. He was kissing that tight skin, that cold skin, warming her up slowly, taking his time with her, and she shoulda known he wouldn't be a wham, bam, thank you ma'am kind of lay. Shoulda known he was a tease, shoulda known he wouldn't let her remain silent. Shoulda known he'd find a way to make her beg for it. Shoulda known that when he finally gave in, he'd fuck her six ways from Sunday and her voice would go ragged and hoarse.

Bed's aren't overrated. Not when it's round two, and he's slid you to the edge, your feet brushing the floor, and you've forgotten your own name, and all you know is his.

They fell asleep on the rough, stained carpeting, wrapped in sheets, wrapped in limbs.

She waited for the guilt, and it came soon enough… Leaving him there, after all, taking his bike, had been kind of messed up. But she didn't know how to deal with it, didn't know how to deal with what they'd done. Didn't know how to deal with Logan either, just avoided him. Avoided Alec, too, when he showed up close to nightfall, angry, silent, brooding, but he was avoiding her right back.

She slowly made her way back into Logan Cale's life over the next week or so. He didn't ask about the night she'd disappeared with Alec and she didn't tell him. Alec didn't start dating anyone, for which she was glad, 'cuz she was sure the instinctual jealousy after a night like that would have given her away. Alec avoided everyone, even Gem and Eve, like he was just tryin' to sort out his own life or something. Trying to decide what kind of role he wanted to play.

Before he could, a few weeks later, Logan came through with a cure. It was unexpected, surprising, completely from left field, and it sent her reeling. A long time ago, in her dreams, it'd been him. But in that misty-reality, that longing, it'd never been Logan, but now he was saying it could be. Her nerves were shot. She needed the candles and the pasta and the bed in order to go through with it. And twenty minutes later, when he was drowsily trying to keep his eyes open, she'd slip out from under cold sheets and shower for a good thirty minutes.

"How's your world?" Alec would finally appear, would ask her, but she wasn't surprised because she'd felt him coming. "Any rocking, lately?"

She glared, because all of T.C. knew, that despite the cure, Max hadn't moved in with Logan. She glared, because this was the first time he'd said more than two syllables to her in weeks. She glared, because he knew as well as she did, that she and Logan were actually having fewer date nights now than they had before they'd found the cure. Maybe because-

"I'm pregnant,"

Logan's mouth worked in shock. She could tell he hadn't been prepared for that, that he wasn't ready, that he was a little unhappy. "But… it was only that one time… and I used-"

"It's not yours." She added softly.

Any other man might have called her a few choice names. Logan shut down, looked down, wouldn't say a word. She left him there. Wondered at the swell of emotion that felt a lot like _free_.

Logan didn't confront her. No, apparently he took his fill of courage from a liquor bottle and confronted someone else. There weren't any marks on Alec, but-

"Dix told me you got to fighting,"

"You could call it that," He was advancing on her. She backed away.

"You don't look like it,"

He smirked as she hit the wall, as there was no other place to run. "Who said he got any hits in?"

His lips grazed across her cheek and she melted into liquid, and memories of that night and of need made her body go tight. Until his hand glanced down, across her flat stomach, and her heart froze. She shoved him away.

"I'm not going to be with you because of this," She hissed. "I don't need you."

"No," He argued. "You're right. You don't need anyone. You're perfectly content to spend the rest of your life cold and alone."

But no, she wasn't content with that, because that's why she'd jumped him in the first place. One night shouldn't change her whole life, though… She didn't want his pity. She didn't want to be the obligation, despite what his eyes were trying to insist to her, what his mouth could not. Maybe if he'd been able to say it, it would have been different. But he couldn't say it, so she kicked him out.

He started dating someone else. They fought about it every once in a while, big, huge, angry fights, what, you don't want me, but no one else can have me either? None of his girlfriends lasted long, not when he was so totally in the life of the woman that was having his child, not when he broke dates to calm hormonal rampages, not when he'd fight with her until two in the morning and end up spending the night there. On the couch, he'd always insist, 'cuz he was too tired to make it over to her place, or to his place, but the truth was plain to see, whether or not he spent the night on the couch, all he wanted to be was there.

Especially once the baby came.

She had ten little fingers, and ten little toes, and she was the most beautiful thing Alec had ever seen. And Max, lookin' at Alec lookin' at her, her heart squeezing painfully in her throat, wondered what it would take to break down the barrier she'd put up between them.

It took a large, pink, fluffy bunny, a bigger grin, and a month of rest for her body to adjust, 'cuz that was the soonest that she could jump him.

"God, she's pregnant again?" Mole snorted. "Will someone please tell them what birth control is for?"

"What?" Dix grinned, he'd always liked babies. "It's cute."

"I know," Mole rolled his eyes, "But what is this, like their fourth kid?"

"Fifth. And shut up, Mole," Max breezed by. "Can you see me with only one kid?"

"You passed one a long time ago, honey." Mole shouted after her, before shaking his head in disgust. "Those X-5's with their little breeding partners and their parental instincts and their weirdness,"

"Hey," Alec sauntered up shortly after. "Can you watch Sarah, tonight?"

"And by Sarah, I assume you're also including Tinga, Lisa, and Marie?"

"Nah, Gem's got the twins, they're still too young and impressionable to be faced with your ugly mug."

"I guess," Mole grunted in unhappiness. "If I _have_ to…" He paused. "So, another baby, huh?"

"Shut up, Mole," Alec rolled his eyes. "Can you see Max with only four kids? Besides," His grin was wicked. "You know I'm trying to build the perfect cheerleading squad."

"Me and the rest of T.C., pal."

* * *

_J_ is for _Jack_

Rated K

* * *

The door was locked.

Why the hell was the door locked? Alec never locked his door, which, hey, good news for him, 'cuz it meant she didn't have to bust through a deadbolt to get to him. To haul his lazy ass out of bed, or from his drinking, or TV watching, or any other of his stupid, pointless activities, to be her back-up when she needed him.

Her hand was still resting on that brass knob, almost in shock, mostly in annoyance, and she frowned down at it, willing it to turn, to stop being so difficult. Alec _never_ locked his door.

I mean, he hadn't even locked the door last time he'd taken Asha home with him, that night of Max's failed window of opportunity with Logan. Her face twisted into a familiar expression of disgust and loathing, and it was just because she'd missed a chance with Logan, not because she'd pulled away a thin blanket and had been assaulted by the most annoying little girl in the world, with her narrow little face, hair like straw, spiking all over the place, a lower lip that couldn't be anything but pouty, and… ugh… what did guys even see in her?

"Personality," Alec had said blandly, earlier that evening, while they were at Crash. "Petite little features, like a little fairy." Max was suddenly achingly aware of her own features, broader, exotic, not exactly the face of a typical girl-next-door, all-American sweetheart. Alec kept talking and her annoyance was increasing exponentially, "Great hair, with her own sense of style, nothin' borin', like just wearin' it long all the time; and hey, she's blonde, even. That's a plus." He mused, oblivious as Max fingered her own long, dark hair. He smirked a bit, before focusing on her, and her hand dropped from her hair quickly. "A lower lip that can't be anything but pouty. Nice body. You just don't see it, Max. Asha's frickin' hot."

"Okay, if she _**had**_ a personality, your argument would make sense," Max scowled, grabbing for her beer.

"Don't be mad 'cuz the only two emotions you're capable of are anger and angst." Alec shrugged, leaning back into his chair. "Asha's fun. She likes to hang out. Play drinking games-"

"Well, some of us have responsibilities," Max sniffed back.

"Max, she's one of the leaders of the S1-W. Stop pretending like she's a little girl that has nothing to do, that can't take care of herself, just because, unlike you, she knows how to relax and have a good time once in a while." Alec talked right over Max's loud, angry denials.

They stopped arguing, just for a moment, just starin' each other down.

"Whatever," Max blew him off, rolling her eyes and looking away as she took a sip from her beer.

Which meant he knew he was getting to her. And if there was one thing Alec liked to do, it was to goad Max.

"And that body," Alec's eyes rolled up into his head.

Okay, this conversation was officially sucking. "What body?" Max demanded, her glass slamming back into the small round table. "She's all… skinny… and… skinny."

"She's all willowy," Alec was musing, still staring off into the distance. "And supple." His eyes refocused upon her and narrowed. "And you're one to talk, Ms. Gaunt Angles,"

"What?!"

"You heard me. Eat a sandwich for chrissakes." He lifted one of her thin arms away from the table and she snapped it away from him, scowling. She was toned. She wasn't… skinny. Hey, she had a great ass! Guys loved her ass! And boobs! She had boobs!

"Asha's are bigger," Alec said blandly.

Her hand reached across the round table to pop him because that so wasn't true, but her beeper had gone off, and it was Logan, paging her 911. Great. She hesitated, just for a moment, wanting to stay and continue this argument, make Alec see how stupid he was, but-

"Have fun with all that responsibility," Alec had called after her cheerfully, as she stomped her way to the back, to the payphone and to another Friday night lost to an E.O. mission; another weekend spent doin' something other than hangin' out with her friends.

Trouble, Logan had said. Some well known gangsters had stolen some priceless American artifact, some chick's baseball, and were transporting it out of the country, and ugh-

"I'll get Alec," She sighed.

"No need," Logan replied, through the phone. "It's a fairly straightforward assignment. A one man job," She could almost hear him shrug. Part of her wondered why it never occurred to Logan to get jealous. She didn't know it was because she'd made her dislike of Alec so well-known throughout the last couple of weeks that only the most insightful of people would have known to be worried.

Usually, Max would just jet when Logan's call came through, not even worry about sayin' bye or nothin'; 'specially not to Alec who'd probably just roll his eyes anyway. But her eyes darted to the table they'd been sharing and-

Ugh.

Asha.

Gross.

"Logan's got this thing," She explained, her eyes on Alec.

"And?" Alec asked, one eyebrow raising. "You never worried about saying bye before,"

"Just lettin' you know that Logan needs me," Max said with a shrug. Take that, little girl. Logan _needs_ me.

Asha smiled, genuinely nice, oh gross. "You're so great, Max. I'm all about helping Eyes Only during the week, but no way I'd give up my Friday night for one of Logan's 'crises'." Wait, he'd… gotten Asha's help before? And Asha… knew how to turn him down?

"I think you pissed her off," Max heard Alec say blandly as she whirled, not stomping, just walking, off.

"We still on tonight?" She heard Asha smile back.

Whaaaaa-

It was mos def a two person job, Max scowled at the two thugs with guns, blocking the entrance. And two more in the back. None on the roof, but she hadn't brought her gear. And look, as her eyes swept security once again; they _**all**_ had guns. Really big guns. She needed someone to watch her back. No matter that when it'd just been her n' Logan, Alec safely in Manticore, she'd always run these missions on her own… but, hey, a second was available now, and she was gonna use it. It was just good sense.

But he wasn't at Crash.

And his front door was locked.

And he and Asha had had plans tonight.

Which is why Max was just starin' down at that knob, not breaking through.

What if they were… you know… doin' something. Together.

Naked.

Gag me.

Max was so intent on her disgust, the door opening, Asha's smiling face suddenly in her view, came as kind of a shock. To them both. Asha's smile faltered a bit, and was that a little bit of hardness in her eyes?

"Maax," Asha's smile made a kind of halfhearted come back. "What are you doing here?" There was no mistaking the hesitation in the blonde woman's voice.

Max scowled and shoved her way in. "Just came to get Alec,"

"Waitaminute," Asha started to come after her, just as Alec came 'round the corner.

Shirtless.

"Hey, don't forget to grab some more-" Alec paused, blinking, and they just stared at each other for a long moment. Then he rolled his eyes. "Oh great, now what?"

"Get dressed," Her eyes flicked dismissively over his naked torso, her stomach tying into knots; oh my god, maybe they were having naked time, "I need your help,"

"Trannie in trouble?" He asked, one eyebrow quirking.

"Not... exactly." She admitted.

"White on the loose?"

"Well-"

Alec grabbed her arm, propelling her back towards the door, "Well, thanks for stopping by, Max,"

"Hey, you owe me," She protested as she was pushed past Asha, who was tryin' her best to blend into the wall.

"Whatever," He snorted, stopping near the entrance as she ripped her arm away from him, "I've paid you back many times over, and any other debts were cancelled when you kicked me in the balls,"

"Hey, Alec, you comin' back?"

Ohmigod.

It was Lorraina, Jam Pony's bleach blonde extraordinaire, leaning around the corner, smirking at Alec's naked back…

"It's not what you think," Alec huffed at Max's horrified look, her eyes darting between Alec, Lorraina, and Asha.

It wasn't anything close to what Max had been thinking.

It was poker night.

"We don't have the money to play for cash," Sketchy explained, adjusting his clear green visor on his mop of hair, "So, we play for favors."

"Or clothes," Lorraina was smirking at Alec's chest. Max rolled her eyes. So did Sketch.

"Dude, I still say your shirt should not be allowed as an opening bet."

"Works just fine for me," Lorraina smiled wickedly.

"Me too," Asha chimed in with a small shrug, smiling at the cards in her hand.

"Well, I think y'alls retarded," O.C. was rearranging her cards, still avoiding Max's death glare. What? It wasn't her fault her boo was never around for Friday nights any more. Wasn't her fault Max always had sumtin' goin' on with the great Eyes Only… so she'd found another Friday night activity, poker at Alec's, big deal.

"Hey, weren't you going to go get more beer?" Sky asked Asha. Asha pretended to ignore him, for some reason lookin' like she didn't want to leave anymore.

Max had been prepared for many things; a small gathering of her coworkers and her friends in Alec's living room, around a small round table, was not one of those things. Her beeper went off and she glanced down, tilting the display to meet her eyes. Great.

"Lemme borrow your phone," Max demanded, her eyes swinging back up to Alec.

"Play you for it," Alec grinned. Max just stared at him, expressionless, until he finally rolled his eyes, standing from his chair and pulling the cell from his jeans, tossing it to her.

"I'm wagerin' two runs tomorrow," Sketchy finally declared.

"Dude, I want it in writing this time," Sky was shakin' his head as Max was punchin' in the numbers.

Sketchy sighed in annoyance.

"You calling from Alec's cell?" Logan asked in confusion, checking the caller i.d. once more. Hadn't he said it was a one-man job?

"Yeah, stopped by to get his help. I checked out the warehouse and it was way too hot." Max was frowning, watching the game, as O.C. bet another two runs and raised 'em a candy bar.

"Can I bet my pants?" Alec asked.

"Yes," Answered Lorraina, at the same time as everyone else was saying 'No!'. Asha smiled a bit, and Max scowled.

"So, are you two on your way then?" Logan asked.

"Dude, I fold," Sky sighed in annoyance.

"In a minute," Max huffed, "Apparently, I'm interrupting his and Asha's-"

Logan started in surprise. "Wait, Asha's there too?"

What the- Was that… No way was Logan jealous that Asha was chillin' with Alec!

"Would it be a problem if she was?" Max demanded. Everyone at the table suddenly found reason to go very quiet, pretending disinterest in her call.

"Well, no, it's just… I didn't know they were… close, is all." His voice was reluctant, and Max was opening her mouth in suspicion when-

"HI LOGAN!" Alec called cheerfully. "Don't worry, I'm only half naked!"

"What was that?" Logan demanded. "Did Alec just say something?"

"No," Max scowled across the table at him. "That was just an idiot."

"Max, I hate to pressure you ("No, he doesn't" Alec grinned. "Dude, you got ears like a dog if you can hear their convo," Sky shook his head.) but are you going to go-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get the chick's baseball in a minute."

"Max, Babe Ruth wasn't a-"

Max hung up on him, tossing the phone back to Alec. "Okay, Pretty Boy, playtime's over. Let's go."

"Sit down and stay awhile," Alec grinned, sliding the cell back into his pocket. Something mischievous shone in his eye, something warm and knowing. "You never know, you might win something. I've already lost two pitchers and a movie night to Asha,"

Whaat? Blondie couldn't play poker!

Max was about to get rabid when O.C. finally looked up and caught her eye, huffing in annoyance. "Sit down girl. You spend way too much trippin' on Logan's say so. Relax for two minutes and play a damn game, like you did back in the day, before the great Logan Cale made you lose all interest in fun,"

Everyone turned to look at O.C. in flabbergasted shock. But O.C. didn't back down from Max's glare, like, you know it's true so don't even try n' deny it.

Max blinked a bit in guilt, glancing away. Guess she had been kinda skimpin' out on hang-out time with her friends lately…

"Why don't you play us for it, Max?" Asha was smiling, in an attempt to smooth it over. "You win, Alec goes with you."

"Hey, don't I get a say in this?" Alec protested. Both women ignored him, and something a lot like a challenge crackled through Max's eyes, and something just as steely hardened in Asha's.

"Whatever, I could beat any of you blindfolded anyway," Max turned to glare at Sketch. "Move,"

He sighed, slinking out of the chair, headin' towards the kitchen to grab a stool.

O.C. smirked at her boo. Atta girl.

Max lost the first round. Asha won a total of six runs ("Sweet, you don't work with us anyway," Sketch sighed in relief) a candybar, and twenty dollars from Alec. ("I thought we weren't playing for money," "Man, Max, Alec _always_ has money," "Please shut _up_, Sky.")

Guess it had been a while since she'd played poker. Maybe she was a little rusty, 'cuz she lost the next round to O.C., but that was okay, she didn't mind losin' to her girl.

It was the third round that she noticed it.

The bright colors of a face card, the Queen of Hearts, sliding into Asha's sleeve.

No way.

Blondie was cheating!

And for a moment, Max almost felt a grudging kind of respect for the woman.

"What are you betting, Max?"

"Nothin," Max was still watching Asha. "Same rules. I win, Alec n' I are leaving." The blonde looked up and caught her eye. Max arched one eyebrow, but other than that, didn't let on that she'd seen the girl slip a card away.

"Boring," Sketch rolled his eyes, tryin' not to look peeved that Max was trying to break up poker night.

Max lost that round to Alec. So, whatever card it was that Asha had gotten, she was saving it for something. Maybe for a round that didn't have so much Jam Pony related favors attached to it.

It was the sixth round when Blondie made her move. Max's beeper had gone off at least three more times and it was Alec's turn to bet. "Well, it's either this or my pants," Alec sighed. ("I vote pants!" "Shut_** up**_, Lorraina,") "Night on the town with your good buddy Alec to the winner."

"Who the hell would want that?!" Max demanded. Lorraina obviously. But Sky and Sketch perked up a bit too, but ugh, men, it was probably 'cuz Alec always had more n' enough money to take 'em to any sleazeball strip club they wanted. But even O.C. looked a bit happy about that.

"_**Cindy**_,"

"What?" Cindy retaliated in defense. "Last time, Hot Boy took me to get my nails done AND to a nice little restaurant with lots of sweet honeys," Max blinked in wide eyed shock.

Asha shrugged and smiled a bit when Max turned to look at her. And Max realized that the card that had disappeared into Asha's sleeve a few rounds ago was about to make a comeback.

Good thing she'd been pocketing cards, preparing for a win, since the very first round. Granted, she coulda won and had Alec outta here three rounds ago, but she'd been curious to see what Asha was waiting for. Now she knew. Asha was waiting on Alec. Well, if Max had her way, she'd be waitin' a lot longer.

"Four of a kind," Max tossed her hand to the table, smirking smugly. All four Jacks and the Queen of Clubs to top it off. Asha's look of shock was well worth it. Alec's too. Max didn't meet O.C.'s rolling eyes, 'cuz, really, cheating, in this case, was a necessary evil.

"Have fun savin' the world, boo," O.C. shook her head. Her girl had come a long way, cheatin' just to get out of having some fun. But maybe that was just O.C.'s bitterness talkin'; bein' fed up with all the damn drama. Strange, though, back in the day, Max coulda won and been outta here by now. Maybe she was rusty. Or maybe her girl was finally slippin' out from under Logan Cale's thumb, goin' back to the living, breathin', fun lovin' girl she once was. Cindy smiled.

"Do you know how statistically small a chance for a four of a kind is, especially with face cards?" Alec whined as Max was pulling him out the door, fully clothed once more.

"Whatever, I won you, pal."

"As in a night on the town," Alec grumbled, not even attempting to pull his arm away from her. "With spending of money, not to help you grease the wheels with Logan Cale, to further your non-existant romance!"

"Nope," Max smiled. "You still owe me that date night, too. Remember, we said if I win, you had to go with me on this mission?"

"You mean I have to spend two nights alone with you?" Alec cried in horror.

Whatever. "Please, like it would bother you," Max rolled her eyes.

She was still dragging him down the hall when his voice, amused and low and a little bit dangerous, caught her ear. "Waitaminute. Did you just call it a _date night_?"

"You know what I meant," Her eyes flicked back to him.

"Yeah, whatever you say," He rolled his eyes but kept his voice neutral.

...

"Cheater,"

"Oh, shut up, Alec."


	7. KL

A/N: Thanks to all the reviewers! Melissa, PurpleSpinx (thanks for the plethora!), src13, ariana, wrenbailey (I agree! mwaha... ahem), Nic (flail!), p3karen, Chica, and Michelle Amethyst!

K is a cute twist of one of the most prominent fanon ideas in DA; I wanted to shake things up a bit. Why do guys always have to react to Heat? Plus, I like this one 'cuz I think I made Max do the smartest thing I've ever had her do in any of my stories. You'll see what I mean.

L is book!verse. There's no fixin' book!verse, I could only soften the blow. Eh, I like where I ended it. Anyway, book!verse is too retarded, too nauseating... If you get the vague sense of tongue-in-cheek in some areas, ignore it, I couldn't help it, 'cuz that's how ridiculous I find the books. FF . Net doesn't allow links (even removes FF . Net from documents if you don't have the spaces in there) but clean up the spaces and try this one. www. tv. com /dark-angel/ show/ 36/ the-books/ topic/ 152-529859/ msgs.html? tagboardtopics;title;4 (WARNING: Summary of books. Completely spoilerish and highly nauseating)

* * *

_K is for Kill_

Rated M

* * *

"Max," Alec blinked. "Why are you handcuffed to your bed?"

Max glared at him, but lookin' dignified was out, what with the way she was kinda stuck here. "Why do you think, idiot? What are you even doing here? I told you to watch T.C. while I was indisposed." Her hands were clenching and unclenching in the handcuffs. And it wasn't from embarrassment or anger, even though Alec did look pretty chuffed.

Okay, maybe a little bit was anger. What the hell was so funny?

Maybe it was just Manticore's ultimate joke; making females go into Heat in the first place. Making, so far as they could tell, males without the necessary pheromone receptors to recognize, much less react, to it; except for in a normal, male, ohmigod-there's-a-lusty-female-coming-on-to-me-yay sort of way. Ha ha, very funny.

Okay, yeah, maybe it wasn't all bad news, because that meant they hadn't had to deal with too many Heat-fueled fights, any big huge, animalistic, bloody brawls, except for when very normal human lust and jealousy arose. Hey, I had my eye on her first, and we went to lunch a few months ago, so her comin' on to you don't mean Jack, pal… except it kind of did because females seemed to pick ahead of time, almost instinctually, who'd they be convincing to come home with 'em; kinda like her n' Eric, her n' Rafer… So, yeah, feelings could get hurt and macho males could get to fighting over it, but that wasn't the same thing as being animalistically driven to mate. Guys didn't know how easy they had it. It just wasn't _fair_.

Anyway, male trannies didn't really react to Heat, except in a childish way, but still, she didn't want to make an ass of herself in Command either; throwing herself at anything that moved until her instincts guided her to that one perfect mistake. Which is why she'd taken herself off the roster; why she'd told Alec to watch over T.C. for her the last couple of days. Maybe she should have told him why she was taking the weekend off, maybe he wouldn't have stopped by.

"Oh jeez, you're in Heat?" Alec laughed. His eyes moved appreciatively, caressingly, down her form, the black tank top stickin' to her ribs, the pajama pants clinging to her legs. "That explains why you're so sweaty."

"Shut up," She whined. And smiled at the end, wiggling on the bed. "And come here,"

Alec blinked. Then smirked, leaning back, his hands digging into his pockets. "No way, I'm not letting you talk me into your bed,"

"Then what are you even doing here?" Her eyes were moving across his shoulders, down his lean form.

"Meh. My pipes 're still busted," He shrugged. "Can I borrow your shower?"

She was still smirking and Alec's eyebrow's rose into his hairline, his hands comin' out of his pockets, as her voice descended into a sultry purr. "What am I going to get out of it?"

It was just too easy.

His shirt came off his body in one fluid motion and her mouth went dry and half-hearted wiggling turned into a needy kind of writhing. Worse, when his hands flicked at the button of his jeans, his pants just barely hanging onto his lean hips. She made a little whimper and that, coupled with the way she was moving, the sweat on her flushed skin, made Alec's entire body tighten. Maybe teasing her wasn't such a good idea after all…

"What do you get?" He asked, smiling slowly, evilly. "Absolutely nothing," There was only a hint of vindictive glee there (payback for all those times she'd made a face when someone brought up his good looks. Ha, wasn't implyin' he was ugly now, was she?), and he shot her a wink before turning and sauntering off.

"I'm going to kill you!" She shouted at his lean, gorgeous, toned back as he disappeared into her bathroom with a disbelieving snort.

Or maybe she'd kill herself, she thought, her head dropping back into the pillows, her mind clearing a bit now that his beautiful skin, glorious muscles, had been taken away from her. God. Droolin' over Alec's fantastic body. What was she thinking? Okay, so maybe she still wasn't thinkin' too clearly.

Clear thinking or no, she'd glance back up in surprise when she heard the shower turn on, heard the spray of water hit the tub's bottom. Guess shutting the bathroom door was a non-issue when she was chained to the bed and couldn't see anything anyway. She whimpered. But oh god, she could just imagine…

His jeans pooling on the floor, nothin' but tight skin and muscle (in Max's mental imagery, underwear was strictly unnecessary) and a body that men would kill for, that women would kill to possess. Maybe he'd preen a bit, because he was good looking and he knew it, but more likely he'd be all brisk efficiency and step immediately into the-

The sound of the water's spray pelting against the tub's bottom changed to that tell-tale sound of water hitting skin, wickedly attacking her sensitive ears, and Max's mouth couldn't make up its mind on whether to salivate or go completely dry at the new mental images that blossomed. Droplets collecting around those lips, sliding down his neck, pooling in his collarbone. The spray of water, cascading around broad shoulders, down a defined chest, a perfect abdomen... Oh man, there's no way this could get worse.

"Max, where's your regular soap?" Alec called. "All you have is this stupid foamy stuff." She could almost hear his shrug. "Oh well."

Oh. My. _God_.

Frantic straining did nothing, the handcuffs didn't break. Her head turned and she stared desperately at the key on the floor near the window, the key she'd kicked off the bed so she wouldn't be able to get to it. Willed it to sprout legs and help a sister out while a man was all soapy. It just sat there, glinting dully, evilly, in the waning light of the setting sun. Alec started whistling, ignorant of her desperation, and she decided it would most def be a murder-suicide as her struggling finally stilled… She could be patient. She had to be patient. She could bide her time.

No she couldn't.

She started struggling once more.

Alec stepped out of her bathroom a torturous fifteen minutes later. Only his loose jeans were huggin' his hips and his bare toes were pressing into her carpet. The only thing he was wearing on his upper body was a dampness that made him positively lickable and a towel slung around his neck, collecting the last of the water run off from his wet, spiked hair. God, the reality was so much worse than any mental image she could have conjured.

Her thighs were rubbing together now. Trying to contain the ache. Her wrists were red from the straining, and when she arched, hands clutching at that short steel chain, it caught his eye and made Alec frown.

"Jesus, is it really that bad?" Alec asked, crossing the room, getting a better look at her red wrists. Manticore had kept Heat pretty hush hush, it probably embarrassed them a bit, so it shamed him to say he didn't know much about Estrus. Usually he liked to know everything 'bout everything.

Max didn't notice his ignorance anyway.

_Yeees._ That's it, Pretty Boy. Just a little bit closer. Come to Maxie.

"You have no idea," Max made a face, her voice surprisingly calm given all the physical turmoil she was under.

But rather than placing him at ease, her neutral voice seemed to put Alec a little on edge and he backed up a few steps. _**No!**_ He was goin' in the wrong direction! Her mind raced in a strange combination of anxiety and calm as she quickly thought of every way to get him to stay. She went for the most direct.

"Alec, can you do me a favor?" She stalled his retreat with a question.

"Sure thing, Max," But his face looked doubtful.

"Can you get me that key over there?" She smiled at him, her eyes darting helpfully to the small handcuff key on the floor. "I accidentally kicked it off the bed earlier," She explained with a small little shrug. But he wasn't biting. Crap. She hadn't made her voice too sweet had she?

Alec was shakin' his head in amusement at her sugary sweet, totally anti-Max, tone. "No way, Max. Can't have you wanderin' around T.C. when you're like this. Not everyone is as discriminating as I am."

Her eyes narrowed, his words like a bucket of ice water, and she fell still on the bed. "What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded, her voice going back to its customary harshness. What, she wasn't good enough for him?

His eyes glanced over sweaty skin, the slight moisture there between her breasts, her arms handcuffed to the iron of her headboard. She was like a pornographer's fondest dream and it made Alec shake his head ruefully once more. "I'm just sayin', not every trannie is a good guy."

"Pfft, like you are," She glanced away, losing interest in words as her body distracted her again.

His eyes were still on her and the pull of his intense gaze had her turning her head back towards him. His voice was low; it crackled like electricity across her skin, moved like a fire through her belly. "_You have no idea__**,**_"

Another whimper and the straining began again. "Al-_lec_."

It was dragged out of him, but it was one foot in front of the other and a small step in the right direction. "Ma-_ax_."

"I _need_ you," She begged.

He fell still again, not even close enough for her to twist and scissor him with her legs, make him see what he was missing. "Ahh, Max, see that's how I know it's not you talking. You don't _**need**_ anyone," The way he said it, it almost sounded like a compliment and her face, already flushed, pinked just a hair more. Her voice didn't show it, though, desperate as she was.

"You don't understand!"

He shrugged. Another small step, as he pulled the towel from around his neck and let it drop to the floor. Good. "Explain it to me." It was a low, commanding rumble and it made her mouth dry, made her insides ache.

"I… I…" Not the truth, no, if she gave him the truth, that she needed him, needed him _inside_, she'd never get out of these handcuffs. Quick, quick, lie.

"You?" He prompted, a wicked little smile on his devilishly handsome face.

"I… have to use the bathroom," She finally muttered darkly, glancing away.

He snorted and stared at her for a few moments, tryin' to gauge her sincerity. He finally shrugged and crossed to the window, bending over (Max bit the inside of her cheek) and picking up the handcuff key. "Maybe you shouldn't have chained yourself up to your bed then,"

Max relaxed her teeth and concentrated on doing her very best impression of not holding her breath, hoping he couldn't see her heart thudding in her throat, doing her best to keep her excitement out of her voice. "Cindy was supposed to be here already. She knows how to keep me in check. But she was sayin' that Normal fired two people, so I guess she had to work overtime." Max shrugged. Then added, whiny, "But I really gotta _go_, Alec."

Something within Alec told him not to trust her. But her eyes were wide, her face pained, and Heat or no, Max was too prudish to lie about something like having to pee.

"Promise not to go wandering the streets if I let you out?" He was eyeing her a little distrustfully, a little sternly, like a parent cautioning a wayward child that just couldn't do good. She coulda gotten angry, but he'd probably put the key back down and that'd never do.

"I promise," She smiled. Nope. Nosirree. No wandering for Max. She was going to stay right here… with him.

He leaned over her, reaching for the handcuffs, and she murmured and strained towards him and "Fuck," as the key slid out of normally sure fingers and bounced against her mattress. One hand grasping the bars, he leaned over her, making a grab for the key in the folds of the sheets she'd had to kick off, and Max almost died as a tight abdomen was suddenly hanging over her face. She whimpered. Stupid, traitorous hormones. His hands closed around the key and she was so close to freedom, so close to freely pouncing, but the need surged up and claimed her and she just needed to feel him, to taste him-

"Jesus!" Alec hissed, his knees falling inwards, hitting the edge of her bed, his hand steadying himself on her mattress as her hot tongue moved just above the rise of his jeans, against his abdomen. Really, at this point, he should be moving away from her as fast as he could, but he had a feeling if he let go of the headboard, tried to push out of his lean, he'd fall flat on his face and smother her. Probably because of the rapid redirection of blood.

"What are you doing?" He demanded instead, looking down, between his tight arms, looking at her torso, her neck, straining up towards him, her lips moving across his skin.

Her innocent, muffled "Nothin," might have been more believable if she hadn't said it around denim, her teeth hooking around his button to pull it free.

"Why don't I believe you?" Fucking hell, her teeth closed around his zipper and she was arching, trying to maneuver it sideways and down and he had to look up at the ceiling, away from the sight that was quite probably the most arousing thing he'd ever seen. Maybe _**this**_ was the point that he should be moving away. But his limbs were heavy; all that liquid arousal running through his veins making his teeth clench, leaving him weak.

She didn't bother answerin' him, busy as she was rubbing her legs together, writhing a bit, nuzzling at the waistband of his jeans, pushing it slightly out of the way so her tongue could run the length of the material to his hip, leave a quick little bite there on bone. A reward for matchin' up with her fantasy and not wearin' any boxers.

And that was the last straw for Alec. Almost a year's worth of USTing culminating in this? "Okay, that's it." He straightened, finally releasing the headboard, his skin just out of the reach of her lips. She started protesting noisily, her head falling back into pillows, but fell silent in breathless anticipation as he reached over her. The click of the lock was like the gates of Heaven swinging open before her.

She didn't bother rubbing at her red wrists, just grabbed and pounced, attacking his neck with her mouth as muscled arms lifted her up and away from the bed. Her legs wrapped around his waist and it didn't occur to her to ask him where they were goin', 'cuz if he was there, she didn't care. Maybe she shoulda though.

Peeling her off his body would've proven too difficult, so Alec just stepped into the tub, unwrapped one arm from around her to reach forward, and turned the shower on full blast.

She screeched, almost a yowl, as the cold water hit her back, her claws digging into his back, further proof that she really was a cat. The sting of water, like a thousand little knives, brought her back to herself and her eyes widened in horror.

But she didn't let go of him.

"Ohmigod, Alec."

He shrugged, willing her not to make a big deal out of it. But he shifted her in his arms and didn't let go. "You're welcome."

They stared at each other for a few moments, the haze of hormones reduced for now. Watched the water collect on faces, on shoulders, on skin.

"Sooo…"

Max looked away. "Yeah."

Silence reigned, just for a moment.

Right before he slammed her back into the wall, his mouth devouring hers, and she started clawing at his back, trying to get him closer, trying to meld their skin together, get him inside.

"How's your hormones?" He asked against her mouth, doing his best to kick out of his heavy, sodden jeans, lifting them with a foot, letting them spill over the tub's rim, fall to the dry ground.

The icy water was a turn-off. The heat of his body, though, after not feelin' skin against her own for over a year… "Bearable,"

"Fantastic," He murmured, hardly paying attention, focused as he was on her sliding down his body, bare feet touchin' the cold water sluicing across the bottom of the tub, before she was shoving down those pajama bottoms. She straightened and her top was off shortly afterwards, Alec wasting no time in seizing the hem and lifting upwards.

Her leg hooked around his waist, and she was straining up on her one supporting leg, almost on her tip toes, and they gasped as one as his body pressed against hers; the wet heat that'd been gathering since he'd first walked in her room, the soft slickness that was almost decadent, the perfect symmetry to the hardness, the almost painful, hot rigidity.

"Tell me to stop," He grunted, and his hands slid down the wall at her sides, turned inwards and cupped her ass, drew her up and in, so close, in a motion that couldn't be anything other than teasing as he slid against her, just missing the completion she burned for. "You're in control now, Maxie. Tell me to stop," His head hung a bit, the top of his head pressing into the well next to her own, his eyes falling shut as he prepared to painfully pull away at this, the final moment.

And in that bitchy voice, so that he knew it was her, just her. "Don't be stupid, Alec."

That easy, commanding tone, that bitchiness… shouldn't have made his eyes clench, his teeth clench, but it was so Max and it was almost an automatic reaction to pull her up and surge forward, into her.

Perfect. Oh Jesus. Perfect.

He paused, hissing, his eyes clenched as he tried to calm his skyrocketing heart rate, as she tried to remember how to breathe, her eyes wide, staring unseeing at the ceiling, her hands clenching his shoulders. He tried to hold steady, his arms starting to tremble with the pain of non-movement, to give her time, them both time, as her body, unhappily man-free for over a year, happily adjusted to the difference. He couldn't help the little movements that started taking over. The small little thrusts. The slight rocking that drew those perfect little gasps from her. More, needed more of 'em, addictive, needy little breaths of air against his ear, and it had him drawing a little further out with each pass, pressing back in with just a little more force, almost jerking with the strain to control himself, keep it gentle. Maybe the animal in him didn't react to pheromones in an overt way. But this, heat and wet and fuck, this was definitely something it could react to. And she was starting to respond with more than just gasps, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as his movements were becoming more sure; longer, harder strokes. She was starting to rise up and come back down to meet him and she grunted and arched suddenly, her heels dug into the backs of his knees, and she slammed back down as he was thrusting in and fuck, fuck, fuck.

The year's worth of USTing took over and she was crying out his name and gentle just couldn't be a term in his vocabulary, not when she was begging him, not when her body was clenching around him, her hands fisting in his hair, her mouth capturing his, swallowing the snarls that were the embodiment of need.

It was an explosive fuck and it shook the wall and it was everything she'd ever thought it would be and it was oh god, right there, don't stop, please don't stop and it was-

"Oh my god, I'm blind!"

Max only had a moment to focus her eyes, to look over Alec's rocking shoulders, try and disassociate herself from the tension gathering between her legs like a hard, powerful burn, from the haze climbing up her body, sweeping towards her neck, but she musta been hearing things 'cuz there was no one there, and oh, it was still building despite the icy water that kept her mind clear and would be strong and consume her and wash everything away and-

The frying pan cracked across the back of Alec's head with enough force to roll his eyes back up into his head, make him collapse, boneless, and as he was holding her, she tumbled down with him, to the freezing, shallow water, gathered in the tub.

"You killed him," Max cried. Mostly in horror. But no, he was still breathing she noted in relief.

And part of her pouted; she'd been so close. She wiggled a bit, experimentally, but he was totally and one hundred percent out.

"You can thank me later," O.C. looked away from her friend's naked back, blushing a bit, still finding the ability, despite the eyeful she'd gotten, to purse her lips and roll her eyes.

Cindy stepped from the room, wisely saying nothing, to let her friend get decent. But Max knew she'd have some 'splainin' to do. It was almost painful to draw away from Alec, to separate from his cool skin. And it was cool now. Wow, that water was freezing. She frowned and bounced away from the spray, shutting it off with a glare. It took her a moment to collect herself, to finally step from the tub. She wrapped a towel around her own naked form and it wasn't _too_ difficult to pull him from the tub, to maneuver him into her blue robe.

"Why ain't we throwin' his ass out in the street?" Cindy huffed as she helped Max deposit his deadweight on the bed. "He gonna just wake up and Kitty Cat is gonna come out to play once more and Cindy gonna have to bust another frying pan upside his-"

"Males don't react to Heat, least not in any discernable way that we've found so far," Max wouldn't look at Cindy as she lifted Alec's legs onto her bed and tried not to let her hands linger too long, definitely not to let 'em slide up into the robe while O.C. was watching. "You coulda asked us to stop and we probably… well… we might have been able to."

Cindy blinked, leaning back into her heels. Before she scowled. "You mean he ain't under hormonal duress?"

Max shrugged.

"Then why the hell ain't we throwin' his ass out in the street and shooting him?" Cindy demanded.

Max's face colored and she wouldn't look at her friend, wouldn't say anything.

"You awfully calm about this, boo," O.C. was frowning in suspicion now. Why wasn't Max horrified, and crying, and headin' out to borrow Mole's shotgun to use on Alec? She seemed collected enough, not nearly as crazed as when Cindy had left for work that morning after a long night of tellin' Max that no, she couldn't call Alec to pick up some take-out, or no, doesn't matter if Alec's pipes are busted, he wouldn't be needin' to use her shower, or no, Alec's shoulders weren't the most fascinating things on the face of the-

Come to think about it, O.C. frowned, there seemed to be kind of a theme there. But Cindy didn't know how to broach the subject delicately, didn't know how to ask if all that fiery fighting that Max and Alec did was, just as she'd suspected for a few months now, a cover for something just as hot.

She kept it general, safe, frowning at Max, chalking up her surprisingly 'okay-ness' to her long dry spell. "Max, how long it been since you had an itch scratched?"

"One year and three days," Max replied automatically. Like she'd been keeping count. Which she had.

"Damn," O.C. shook her head as Max turned and went to her dresser to grab some new clothes. "Original Cindy almost feels guilty 'bout popping Hot Boy upside the head now."

"Shut up," Max shook her head, a small smile on her face, but not payin' much attention as she drew soft material up under the towel, over languid limbs. Free from the cool water of the shower, the slow warmth was creeping back into her body, the hot blinding haze of hormones was creeping back over her mind, and by the time she was done dressing, it was all she could do to pull her heavy gaze from Alec's still form.

"I suppose this would be a bad time to mention that Logan was askin' 'bout you," O.C. said dryly, not missing the way Max was lookin' at Alec. And by askin' O.C. meant demandin' and bein' kind of annoying in general.

"Mmhmm," Max said dreamily, starting to creep forward a bit. Cindy snagged her by the back of one red spaghetti strap, ending Max's advance.

"C'mon, girl, let's go do some push-ups,"

"But I don't wanna," Max whined. "I wanna scratch."

O.C. snorted. "And Original Cindy got half a mind to let you. Year and three days." She shook her head in wonder before steeling her face. "But whatevah, c'mon, fifty push-ups, in the living room, now."

Max frowned and right before she was turning to leave suddenly turned and lunged for the bed, and Cindy started to protest, but her girl leaned right over Hot Boy and grabbed for something shiny… and before Cindy could even ask Max what she'd grabbed, she'd clicked a pair of handcuffs onto Alec's wrist, around one of the iron bars of the headboard.

"Max, what are you doing?!"

"Making sure he can't get to me," Max replied with a shrug, drawing away from him slowly.

"But you said he don't react to the pheromones!"

"Making sure I can't get to him, then." Max amended defensively.

"Are you sure?" O.C. demanded. "'Cuz it look like you makin' sure he can't get away. Where the hell is the key?"

"I dunno," Max lied, traipsing to the living room.

"Max, give me the key!" Her friend rushed at her, but Max dodged and booked it to an opened window and the little metallic bastard went straight out and into the darkening street. Cindy arrived just moments too soon and stared down at the street in dismay, her eyes unable to pick up the dull metal on the dirty ground three stories below.

Max leaned back into the wall next to the window, shrugging. "Guess you'll have to go find it,"

"Yeah, right, I'm not leaving you alone for a minute, probably try n' lock me out or something," Cindy turned back to glare at her friend.

Max scowled, and Cindy was gonna take that as a yes, that was totally what she'd been planning. Cindy frowned, her lips curling, as she pointed at the floor. Max relaxed with an unhappy sigh, dropping to the ground, starting to push out the fifty that Cindy had demanded of her, ignoring her friend's scowl on the back of her head and her own body begging for more, begging for the finish.

Begging for Alec.

Cindy stayed almost the entire night and couldn't get Max to fess up why she wasn't lettin' Alec go. Nor could she talk Max into tellin' her about what had happened, why and how she'd ended up with Hot Boy in a freezing cold shower, doing the dirty. Heat, duh… but still. Even if Alec _**was**_ some kinda crazy mystical sex god, if the noises Cindy had heard when she'd first come into the apartment were any indication, Max shoulda seen the error of her ways by now. But it looked like O.C. wasn't gonna get any answers, and it was creepin' up on dawn and soon she'd have to go back home to get ready for another double shift at Jam Pony.

But she didn't know how ethical it was to leave Alec in Max's clutches. Max didn't have a phone, and had snuck away while Cindy was usin' the guest bathroom to hide Alec's, so Cindy didn't know how to call Logan, or Mole, or anyone else to come and rescue her male friend without having to leave the apartment and get locked out anyway. And she didn't know if she wanted to subject Max to that kind of embarrassment… Plus, she was sleepy and annoyed anyway, going on way too many hours of awake time, having spent two nights now keeping an eye on her girl. And this night had been even worse than the previous, with Max constantly trying to get to her boy. Cindy had finally ended up snagging a chair and putting it in the bedroom's doorway, flipping idly through a magazine as Max ran a gamut of every exercise the woman could think of.

All that work for no reason, 'cuz she had to leave soon anyway…

But there was something to be said of lost causes…

Especially when they were a substitute for a situation even more lost. Max's pager was goin' off again, and O.C. stopped to frown at it in the middle of trying to talk herself into not going to work. The thing had been goin' off almost all night. Logan never liked it when Max ignored his pages and O.C. never liked it when Logan... She made herself take a calming breath, telling herself that Max's decisions were Max's decisions and if Max wanted Logan like she said she wanted Logan, Original Cindy should be helpin' her girl out… But…

Cindy spent a hot minute arguin' with herself, tellin' herself she shouldn't be playin' Relationship God… but Alec hadn't exactly been an unwilling participant from what she'd seen and Max… well, she'd fixated pretty heavily on Alec to begin with… And Eyes Only… that cat sure knew how to work a nerve, callin' a sister while she was at work and demanding to know where Max was because he had to, in so many words, put her in the line of bullets for an expose that O.C. would never count as important as the life of her friend. Like her girl's life wasn't dangerous enough to begin with... O.C. finally turned and scowled at Max.

"Don't be scratchin' so hard that you both come up bloody on the other side of this bitch," O.C. frowned and finally made herself stomp out.

Yey.

"Aaalec," Max was smiling down at him.

Alec grunted, and tried to flop to his side, go back to sleep.

But he couldn't, because someone seemed to be sitting on him. And both of his arms were tingling, like they didn't have enough blood flow, and the back of his head hurt, and he finally, unhappily, opened his eyes and-

"What the fuck?" He glanced groggily up at his arms, attached to her bed, before focusing on her, straddling his hips, lookin' at him like a cat eyin' the open bird cage, the nearby fishbowl, the carton of milk, tipping precariously on the edge of the table. "Max?"

How had he gotten here? Why was she in her PJ's? Last thing he remembered was- His pupils expanded, his eyes nearly black.

Oh. Yeah. Last thing he remembered was fucking her against the wall of the shower, his whole world about to implode. He grunted, almost in pain, his head dropping back into pillows, shutting his eyes against the assaulting images.

Max murmured something appreciative, shoving the blue robe open and lookin' down at a smooth chest that made her want to squirm and did. She moved over top of him, and that with the memory of her heat; his body was reacting now, and maybe Heat did affect males a little bit, even humans react slightly to pheromones, but more n' likely it was just something he'd wanted for so long and so hard-

"You still here?" Max demanded when his eyes had stayed distant for too long. His gaze snapped back to her, where it belonged, and he smirked as he bucked up against her, making her gasp.

"Yeah,"

"Good," Her eyes reopened slowly as she steadied herself against him. She smiled slowly. "'Cuz I'd hate to have to kill you,"

He smirked right back, surprisingly okay with being handcuffed to Max's bed, to bein' moments away from the complete upheaval of the normal order of things. "Ah, but Max, little deaths are deaths of the best kind,"

She smiled slowly, leaning down into him, her expression almost predatory. "My thoughts exactly."

"Whatevah you do," Cindy sniffed into the phone when Logan was layin' on his own brand of charm later that day. "Don't ask about the handcuffs."

"What?" Logan demanded. But O.C. had hung up on him.

"Normal, I'm tired," Cindy pushed away from the payphone, turning the corner to scowl at her boss across the counter.

"Not my problem," Normal didn't even glance up.

"Should be, your boy kept me up all night," O.C. frowned. Normal dropped the clipboard, his eyes swinging up in horror and... jealousy? "I'm goin' home to sleep," She rolled her eyes when she noticed Sketchy starin' at her in the same undisguised shock, havin' overheard their conversation. Jeez, why men always assumin' a girl's gonna jump back to the straight n' narrow at any minute? What_evah_, she deposited the packages he'd tossed at her back on the counter and stomped out.

Max and Alec came into Command the next morning, arguing about a key or something, and it was hard, but Logan didn't ask about the two broken halves of the handcuffs, still connected to Alec's wrists like two sado-masochistic, silvery bracelets. It was probably good that he didn't ask. He had a feeling the answer could very well kill him.

* * *

_L is for Lie_

Rated T+ for language

* * *

It was a lie.

Their whole relationship.

He hadn't lied to her, no, he'd just neglected to mention the truth. Had kept it to himself. Everyone had supported him, had stood up for him. She'd left town for a few days, tried to wrap her head around it, tried to figure out how someone who loved her could keep that from her… And when she'd come back to Terminal City, when her mind was made up, everyone had shook their heads, had made her see the error of her ways. "Logan's a good guy," was the resounding theme there, "He didn't know how to tell her, he hadn't meant to cause Seth's death…"

Pen tapped paper. His mouth pressed into a thoughtful line.

They were right. It wasn't a lie…

It just wasn't the truth, either.

There is another kind of lie that floats through the world, something soft, something insidious. The lie of omission. A lie of the most powerful and worst kind. A lie that could build relationships, build over three years worth of feelings, of hope, could blind a girl to everything, her friends, her family, everything. Make her forget about them all. And she had, hadn't she? Given up on the one thing that used to be so important to her. She'd given up Zack for him, so long ago. Zack had been a threat, and because Max loved Logan, she had released Zack, released her family. She had released her righteous anger for the death of Seth for Logan. Because of a relationship, built on a lie, a lie of silence, she was giving up her family left and right.

Who else would Max sacrifice, for Logan's sake? If Alec were to ever look cross-eyed at Logan, he'd be gone in a heartbeat, and that guy had put up with more shit in the past two years than some people did in a lifetime. What about Joshua? He'd killed White… brutally… ripped his head clean from his shoulders, vengeance for Annie. If those large hands neared the dainty hairs of Logan Cale's neck, would it be Joshua, thrown from her life? Undoubtedly. Cindy and him? Well. They'd both been given up for Logan ages ago. Their time spent together had dwindled away to practically nothing once Max had met Eyes Only. She'd tried, though, kept up with 'em at work, and sometimes on the weekends, at Crash, but there was no denyin' she spent more time with Logan than she did with her supposed 'friends'. And once she'd left her job at Jam Pony, moved into T.C., she'd become kind of a non-entity in their lives, not that her track record before that had been too stellar.

It just didn't make any sense. How could a girl change so much in three years? How could someone so people oriented (she could bluster and bad-ass all she wanted, but she used to be all about family, and not just her Manticore family) become so fixated on only one man, and to hell with everyone else? A man that that had lied to her no less. Is that what love did? Create blind, forgiving fools? Dude. Count him out. How could she even stand it? How could she wake up to his face every morning, the face of a man that hadn't told her the truth?

Maybe it was easy. Maybe she'd had practice.

Her whole life was a lie, really, when you think about it.

The Apocalypse, the Comet, had come and gone. The Familiar's prophecies were wrong. The Comet was supposed to leak biotoxins into Earth's atmosphere. It was supposed to kill off all human life… But the Comet had passed and nothing had happened. Thousands of years of planning, of selective breeding…. for nothing. The creation of Manticore, to build toxin-resistant soldiers to cure humanity, to fight the Familiars… _All_ of it was for nothing… She'd been created the perfect soldier _for no reason_. Their lives… her special purpose? It was all a big joke, she hadn't saved anybody. Okay, she'd led some transgenics against the Familiars, had killed the Cult leaders, rescued Logan, freed captured trannies… But even if Manticore hadn't been created, the Familiars wouldn't have succeeded in taking over the world without the help of the biotoxin… the toxin that never came…

What's it like, to realize your 'purpose' is a glimmer in the eye of a god that's laughing at you?

Another intake of breath, the smoke rushes down, fills lungs, makes the mind even more loose, more disjointed…

But Calvin "Sketchy" Theodore always has his best thoughts when he's toked out his mind. Really, he's already had these thoughts, already released them from pen to paper, finger to typewriter, and soon it would be sealed, signed, and delivered to his editor. It was his job to report the truth… and that's what he'd done. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth… so help him God, when Max sees it.

Not his fault. Just the facts, ma'am, just the facts, he giggled quietly to himself. It was the job of any upstanding journalist, such as himself, to pass on the truth. And he had; he'd written every _nugget_ of truth, every kernel of actuality, hadn't sugar-coated any of the events that had happened in the last couple of weeks. How transgenics had 'saved the world', only they hadn't, not really, because the Apocalypse never came in the first place, which he helpfully pointed out in his article. He'd spent days interviewing everyone, finding out what happened. And the truth was Max's life was the biggest, and saddest, lie he's ever come across.

Her relationship was a lie. Her purpose was a lie. Hell, she'd lied to him, to the world, from day one, had to find out from Cindy what she n' Alec really were. In between bouts of feelin' kind of sorry for her, Calvin Theodore was a little bit disgusted. He'd thought better of her, but sometimes… Sometimes… Shoot, sometimes, Sketch thought that Max wouldn't know the truth if it was printed on the front page of a newspaper in bold, five inch type.

Which it would be, if his editor ever got his way…

Weekly World News… well, they weren't exactly the New York Post. They demanded sensationalism. They wanted the dirt. So he gave it to 'em. In his article, he told the truth, and in this case, the truth wasn't always pretty. She was tied to a man that didn't know what love was, surrounded by people she would abandon in an instant for a lie of a relationship, and her one special purpose had proven to be unnecessary…

Sketchy sighed, going through the article one more time.

And he tossed it into the trash.

The truth was too harsh. She was his friend. The truth wasn't fit to print, so some time before midnight tonight, he'd walk into his editor's office and he'd hand in an article that spoke of the triumph of the transgenics, how they'd saved mankind, how the Savior of humanity had found true love… and the truth would remain in his trash, where it could do no harm.

But Alec came over that afternoon, looking like he needed to unwind. Weed wasn't really his thing, but ever since the 'end of the world', sometimes Alec just liked to hang out and act broody until Sketch agreed that they should go shoot some pool or something… Sketchy couldn't do that tonight, 'cuz he had a deadline to contend with, but Alec hung out anyway, maybe just escaping for a few minutes. He really had been increasingly moody since the Familiar threat had been dealt with… since Logan had been cured in a rather unconventional way… since Max and Logan spent every night cooped up together, doing God, and everyone else, knows what. Literally.

Alec would tap his foot impatiently, drink from his beer can, Sketch couldn't afford the bottled kind, and glance around Sketch's small digs.

"Thinkin' 'bout leaving town," Alec frowned, leaning forward suddenly. Sketchy's reddened, droopy eyes narrowed and he frowned.

"Wha-?"

"No reason to stick around," He added with a shrug.

"Sure there is!" Sketch racked a fuzzy, loose brain for reasons why Alec should stay, because he knew Alec's next question would be-

"Like what?"

It was a conversation they'd had before. Were having more often, the last couple of weeks. Alec sounded worryingly serious this time. "You're my wingman," Sketchy smiled, too high to do anything but keep it light. "Can't go out without my wingman,"

Alec rolled his eyes, shoving back into the sofa once more. In his toked state, Sketchy found it funny that Alec was even over here in the first place. He was one of those beautiful people that you should be able to look at, read about, maybe, but never get to touch. Alec should be out… hangin' out with other beautiful people, being cool and super-strong and everything else he could do really, really well… but instead he was hangin' out here, with Calvin Theodore, bullshitting and brooding. Fuck. Sketchy stubbed out his blunt, because this was getting a little warped. If he started crying, he was givin' up the green for good.

"You can pick up chicks without me," Alec shrugged.

Sketchy fixed him with horrified eyes. 'Cuz no one could deny that Alec opened a lot of avenues for him previously unattainable…

"How's the article coming?" Alec changed the subject again.

His eyes darted towards the trash. Alec's eyes, faster, followed.

"It's coming along," Sketchy covered. "I haven't started it, yet."

But Alec was already halfway across the room, and he pulled the loose sheets from the bin. Sketchy sighed, put-upon, as Alec's hazel eyes scanned the words quickly. He waited, because part of him really did want to know what Alec would think of the work he'd put in.

"In the end," Alec murmured aloud, "The apocalypse the Cult had been planning for didn't even come to pass, so transgenics..." He fell silent, unable to read aloud that maybe his life was unnecessary. Silence or no, it didn't bother him too much. It wasn't so bad; it was just the truth... In fact, it was almost funny if you possessed a morbid, black sense of humor. The irony of being created a savior, being put through a childhood of hell, all for a world that didn't even need saving? He smiled darkly, sure that some god was laughing. But Alec's mouth fell into a grim line when he got to the muck-raking section on Max's love life that would send Sketchy's editor into paroxysms of happiness.

"You can't print this," Alec shook his head, fingering through the papers quickly. "Max would kill you,"

"Which is why it was in the trash," Sketch pointed out. Then he sighed, "Don't worry, I'm gonna tie it all up in a pretty bow, give everyone what they want; a nice, happy ending. Transgenics save the world. Heroine gets the boy. Everyone ends up happy."

Alec smiled tightly. Hazel eyes were mirthless. "There are no happy endings, pal." The article, the truth, was tossed back into the trash, and Alec spun on his heel.

"You're not really going to leave, are you?"

Alec paused in the doorway. Thought long and hard. "No," He lied. "I'll stay." He left.

Sketchy turned back to that old typewriter he'd wrangled off of the pawnbroker for half his paycheck and his dad's old watch, the only thing the old man had left him before ditchin' him and his mom to a hard life of makin' ends meet. Sketchy had almost been glad to be rid of the damn thing, glad to replace it with something worthwhile, something he could use to make a name for _himself_. He stared at faded keys long and hard, but everything was still so loose and he rubbed at bleary eyes. Finally, he got up, paced and paced and thought and thought until the fog had cleared. It was almost an hour later, half a box of cereal that had been tucked under his arm was gone, and finally he sat back down. Keys clacked, carefully, no spell-check on this type of machinery, not enough money for buckets of white-out or bales of expensive, pristine paper… Every thought was carefully constructed before crashing out of his fingertips.

He got it to his editor by 11:59.

It was the most beautiful lie he had ever written.

It ran the next day. They took him out, his friends, and loaded him up on beer in celebration. His first big break. His first real story, and it was the story of a lifetime. The story of a savior who'd gotten her happy ending.

"So, be honest, what'd you think?" He asked, still cruising on cloud nine with a smile that showed it. No ganga required, tonight he was high on life.

Logan smiled like he knew him. "It was great." Sketchy paused for a moment, before finally nodding at the man that wasn't really part of his group, but his hand was on Max's hand, so guess that makes him part of the in-crowd by default. Really, wherever Max was, Logan was, so you'd think Sketch would have gotten used to the man, the round, cultured peg in the square, urban hole, by now. A _round_ peg in a _square_ hole, and not the other way around, because, sure he could actually fit in, dress down, dumb it down, but no one was blind, once you got close enough, anyone could see he didn't fit the shape, didn't really belong.

Max smiled, but there was a sadness behind her lying eyes, always was, lately, despite how happy she made herself out to be. "You did good, Sketch,"

O.C. smiled warmly. "Always knew you had it in you, crazy ass white boy,"

Alec, the only person who'd seen the original copy of the article, nodded, his eyes hard. "How 'bout a toast?"

Exchanged glances. A sudden, wary undercurrent. Glasses lifted, waiting for it all to shatter. For the beautiful lie to give way to the ugly truth.

But Alec kept his mouth shut. "To our good buddy Sketch… who can finally afford to buy _us_ a pitcher for a change,"

"I'll drink to that," O.C. murmured, before taking a slow sip from her glass.

Alec didn't drink, just turned hazel eyes on Max and Logan. Max tightened. Logan frowned. They waited, tense. "And to you guys too. And the cure." Well… that wasn't so bad. But then Alec smiled and the harsh bite of honesty made Max freeze. "You two… after all this time… everything you've been through… you two _deserve_ each other."

Max's beer fell back to the table, made a sound as the glass bottom hit scarred wood.

"What's that supposed to mean?" O.C.'s face twisted.

"It was a toast," Alec defended, glass still held aloft. "I was being nice,"

"Didn't sound like it," O.C. fixed him with a knowing look. He shrugged. Took a swig from his beer. Logan set down his own, confused.

"Did I miss something?" Logan asked, turning to Max who was staring blindly into her mug, her hand stiff under his. "Is he upset about something?"

Alec rolled his eyes, hellooo, sitting right here. He watched as Max's eyes snapped back to Logan's and her face was fixed in that warm smile once more.

"Who knows," She shrugged. "He's just being Alec."

The blind leading the blind. It was only fitting that two people that could not comprehend love would end up together. If she was willing to forgive him, knowing what he'd done, knowing that their love was built on a lie, then she did deserve him. Him and the heartache he would undoubtedly continue to heap upon her in the years to come. He turned to Sketch, standing from his stool. "Come on, man, let's go hit up some girls for old times' sake."

Sketch wasn't thinking, and he was joking, and it just slipped out. "Gotta hook me up with at least one more honey before you leave town."

Cindy frowned. Logan frowned. Max blinked in something that looked a lot like unhappy surprise, the smile dying once more.

"Leavin'?" O.C.'s face twisted. "Hot Boy, where you think you fixin' to go?"

Alec shrugged, his hands digging into his pockets. "Don't know. Haven't really decided yet. Chicago, maybe? New York?"

"Can't escape big city living, huh?" Logan asked. Ever since Alec had saved his life, prevented him from toppling down the stairs and breaking his neck, they'd come to a grudging sort of truce. It also helped that there was something relaxed in Logan lately. Wasn't surprising, really; Logan had gotten the girl and Alec hadn't even remotely dipped his toes into the picture in over a year.

All eyes swiveled to Max. Waited for her input. Finally, she shrugged. "Whatever,"

A small, half smile from Alec and he shook his head. "Well, you just lost yourself an invite, sister," He slipped away, towards the bar before she could make some sort of telling statement about them not being related but that never meant enough at the end of the day. Sketchy followed with a self-assured swagger. They were chatting up two girls in less than two minutes; Alec was on the ball, on the prowl, tonight. Logan's hand had yet to uncurl from around Max's.

"Jes' won't seem the same without him," O.C. sighed.

Max made a face, and her words were hollow in her ears, "Please, like he was even a part of our group,"

O.C. blinked for a good second. Her mouth opened, and snapped shut before the truth could come tumblin' out; more a part of 'em than Logan ever was. Logan was here for Max. O.C. had never spent time alone with him, not really. She didn't know him. Hot Boy, though, Hot Boy was her friend in his own right, not just because of his ties to Max. Finally, she carefully crafted the words.

"Yeah, whatevah."

She rolled her eyes, too. It wasn't a lie, it wasn't _anything_, and it definitely was easier than the truth.

"So," Logan asked. "Did anyone even read the article?"

"Soon," Max said guiltily.

"Soon as we buy a paper," O.C. agreed. Logan shook his head. "We been busy!" O.C. defended, "And it only jes' came out today,"

"You'll love it," Alec's bland voice washed over 'em, and they started in guilt. "Literary excellence from my good friend, Mr. Theodore," His arm was draped loosely over a blonde's shoulder. That was fast. The girl's friend was still talking animatedly to Sketchy in the background; apparently she found reporters fascinating.

"Who's your friend?" O.C. lifted an eyebrow.

Alec opened his mouth, paused, and frowned in confusion before glancing down at the girl under his arm. "What's your name again?" Max rolled her eyes. Especially when it didn't even faze the girl. She didn't even blink, just smiled, said "Darla," and Alec nodded, smiling wickedly. "Darla, that's right." His eyes slid to O.C. and his grin widened. "We're going to go play… baseball."

Max's face twisted in confusion. Before she grunted in disgust as Alec added, "Darla bats for two teams. Feel like comin' along, Cindy?" Darla _**was**_ eyeing Cindy a little closely.

Cindy scowled. "Fool, don't make me get up and smack you so hard-"

Alec grinned. "Ooo, stop, you're turning me on,"

Cindy huffed in disgust, reaching out to pop him, but he danced away. She slid from her chair and Alec released Darla in favor of bouncing away from Cindy's second attempt at a smack. "Get back here!", "No way!" as Cindy all but chased him back to the bar.

Darla watched the childish antics, a small smile on her face. She turned to Alec's two friends, offered them a small, awkward smile… and her eyes widened, her voice almost coming out in a squeal.

"Ohmigod. It's _**you**_ guys,"

Logan blinked. "Excuse me?"

"From the article! Ohmigod, I totally read about you today! Your pictures were in the paper! You saved the world!"

"Hardly," Max scowled. The world hadn't really needed saving at the end of the day. Really all she'd done is kicked some ass, rescued her guy, and freed some transgenics.

But Darla was shaking her head, gently. "Wow, I hope I can have what you guys have one day. True love? No beating that." She sighed, wistfully, a small smile of a little girl trapped in an older girl's body escaping.

Logan shared a glance with Max. "True love?" She asked, a small smile quirking her lips, and she finally pulled her hand away from Logan's, wiping her sweaty palm discreetly on her jeans below the table. "Sketchy wrote that?"

"Yeah," Sketchy was back, frowning. "I thought you read it," He glanced between them in confusion, not missing the glance, full of guilt, that they exchanged.

Another lie to add unto the pile of their lives? Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

"Well," Max started. "You see," Logan began.

"Don't worry about it," Sketchy deflated a little bit. And in a snappy, unhappy voice, that sounded a lot like payback, "None of it was true, anyway," He grabbed for his drink and slunk off, moody. Cindy frowned after Sketch as she walked back up, her hand still tingling from where she'd caught Alec across the back of the head.

"What'd y'all do to Sketch?"

Max hadn't been by Sketchy's place in almost three years… since before she'd met Logan really. It was just as cramped as ever. She came with beer, hoping to make amends for her slip. He opened the door in nothing but some boxer shorts and Max reared away.

"Max?"

"Hey," She shifted, lookin' away in horror, her voice coming out quick, snappy. "Look, I feel kinda bad about-"

"Calvin?" A breathless, sultry voice wafted from the bedroom.

Oh my god. Sketchy had a girl in there? The girl from the bar from the sound of it.

Sketchy leaned out the door, whispering conspiratorially. "Listen, Max, this girl really has a think for angsty journalist types. You think maybe you can come back later?"

Max huffed in disgust, whirling. Here she'd thought he'd been feelin' bad, but he'd probably just been playin' it up to get slutty little Darla's friend home with him… But Sketchy's voice stopped her, only a few steps down the hall.

"Hey Max?"

She turned back, she kind of owed it to him for earlier.

"Are you happy?" in your lie?

"What kinda question is that?" She asked, her face twisting.

He pursed lips, an expression he'd picked up from his good buddy Alec. "Nevermind," He finally shrugged. "What do I know?" He was just the goofy, tall guy everyone made fun of. He was supposed to pop in and spread some jokes around once in a while; he wasn't supposed to be able to see anything. Wasn't supposed to hear that he'd asked her if she was happy and she hadn't said 'yes'.

"What are you talking about?" She scoffed.

He couldn't believe he was about to do this. There was a hot chick, practically naked in his bedroom, and he was about to throw it all away because, "You wanna read my rough draft?"

"Now?"

His eyes darted inwards. He sighed, again. This sucks. "Yeah, now."

"I interviewed most of T.C. to get this," Sketchy sighed, leaning forward over his knees. "Everyone but you, Logan, and Alec, really."

Max read through the article slowly, sitting on the sunken in, worn cushions of Sketchy's dilapidated couch. Sketchy sat across from her, in that rickety old desk chair. The blonde, Melissa, was long gone, having already tossed on her clothes and flounced out in a huff. Sketch had also put on some clothes, on Max's insistence that he was burning her retinas.

She read the copy he couldn't print, once. Then went back and read it again.

"A love so strong, so unseeing," She murmured aloud, "that even learning the truth of her brother's death could not dissuade her from blindly pursuing…" She trailed off, frowning. Looked up. She preferred the article she picked up after she'd left the bar; the one that threw grandiose words like 'destiny' and 'true love' around. The one that was a beautiful retelling of the truth. "I left town, you know. I didn't just bat my eyelashes and tell Logan everything was cool, let's hop in the sack."

"Didn't take much for you to forgive him, either." Sketchy frowned. He sounded like a reporter. Max frowned back, unhappy that he was actually acting intelligent for a change, asking the questions she didn't want to ask herself. But he couldn't help it, despite her scowl. This was the one source he hadn't tapped yet. Her story, he didn't have, not from her own lips, and he took himself too seriously, when it comes to journalism anyway, to not try and get it.

"Well," Max finally shrugged. "I talked to everyone after I got back and I realized they were right; it wasn't really his fault Seth died. He couldn't have told me when we first met, because then I wouldn't have worked for him. And once feelings started developing, how could he have told me, knowing it'd push me away?"

Exactly. He hadn't told her, because he would have lost her. Kind of proved his whole article; proved that the man she had risked the neck of every transgenic to rescue had built their entire relationship on a lie of omission. She wouldn't have stuck around, if she'd known. There'd be no schmoopy eyes and nights lost to Eyes Only if she'd known.

Max was still talking, but it was almost like she was staring past him, talking to herself, "And then I went to his place, to try and talk to him about it, but he'd been kidnapped." Her eyes refocused upon Sketchy, and he wondered if she was trying to convince him or herself, "A guy being kidnapped kind of makes a girl examine her priorities. No matter what happened before, I love Logan, I gotta-"

"Are you kidding?" Sketchy's face twisted in disbelief. "Max, no one, 'sides Herbal, could be that saintly! And he was only that good 'cuz he spent all of his free time lighting up."

Max scowled.

Sketchy pushed on. "I mean, come on, you knew him for three years, and he just kept something like that to himself? I could understand if it was something like hiding an extra toe or a third nipple or something, but he just forgot to mention the death of someone you thought of as a brother?!"

"It was never the right time!" Max defended, looking away and rolling her eyes, like, what did he know? It was just Sketchy.

"Maybe I'm not the smartest man in the world," Sketchy frowned, slowly. "I get it, you know? I'm supposed to be the dumb white guy that everyone makes fun of." Max started in guilt, and he shook his head. "I've done my share of lying in relationships; cheating, obviously. But I'd never keep something like that, something that frickin' big, from someone I loved… and I don't know if I could forgive anyone if they kept it from me." It'd hurt pretty bad to learn Max and Alec were transgenics and hadn't told him… and that was nowhere near as big as a bomb as Seth must have been to Max. He just didn't get it.

Max looked down at her hands, and wouldn't say anything.

Sketchy shook his head again, almost in confusion. "Sometimes… sometimes it's like someone, who doesn't even know any of us, asked a friend for pertinent info on our lives and then wrote a really bad, unbelievable novel about us… I just don't get how you could go from this bad ass government experiment to an unnecessary savior that hopped in bed with a man that's been lying to you for almost three years."

Max glanced away, scowling, muttering, "Much less how Josh could decapitate White like that,"

"What was that?"

"Nothing," She sighed, glancing again at the article in her lap, pretending to read. "It's complicated, Sketch, I love Logan."

"…Does Logan love you?"

She glanced up. "Of course he does!"

Sketch stood, pacing. Max went back to reading, for real, this time, the words leaping automatically at her eyes. The article dipped a bit into the sci-fi realm when it went into how Logan was cured. Lines were drawn through that area, with notes in the margin stating that the method of cure was too unbelievable, no one would ever buy it, so it needed to be shortened to 'he was cured through unconventional means' and left at that. Well, who would believe that a transgenic had fallen in love with Max, gone homicidal, physically morphed into Logan when Max touched him, somehow taking the effects of the virus from Logan's blood, somehow curing them both? It was a _**little **_(okay, a lot) unbelievable. An author fresh out of college could probably come up with something more believable than that… But Max skipped through all that, went to the end and the pointed questions about what was next, now that the Familiars were dealt with and transgenics had no purpose other than to live as regular humans, free to make all the mistakes of their Ordinary counterparts... Was that another dig at her and Logan?

What _was_ next for transgenics? Scattering to the four corners of the globe, nothin' left to keep them all tied together?

She went back to the beginning of the article, to the softest piece of truth in the entire thing. "Her second-in-command has been by her side for almost two years; a friend, almost family." She murmured, trailed off…

"You really gonna let him leave?" Sketch asked into the silence.

"He's a grown man," Max shrugged, "He can do what he wants." There was softness there.

"You're the only reason he'd stay, y'know."

Max's face twisted. "Please, he'll stay for Josh, and all the other transgenics. He won't stay for me,"

Sketch thought long and hard for a long moment. He'd worked with them a year at Jam Pony. Now that they were all together again, he still saw the way that she could affect him. "Yeah, that's probably true. He will leave for you, though. Or because of you, I guess I should say."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Max dropped that article and all its gory details on her life to the ground.

"You ever wonder why Alec hasn't had a girlfriend in so long?" It was a question he'd asked himself last night, in a moment of herbal insight. Alec was amazing when it came to getting girls, but from what Sketch had heard, he'd spent the past year as Max's sidekick, working hard, without the simple creature comfort of a warm body next to him in bed.

Max sighed. "Probably because of Rachel,"

"Who?" Sketchy's face twisted.

Max glanced away. A secret. Another secret. "Nobody,"

A long period of silence was kept, as they both moodily considered the possibility of Alec leaving.

"You really wouldn't care if he left?" Sketchy finally asked, unhappy, almost in disbelief.

"What do you want from me, Sketchy?" She demanded, her face suddenly twisting in annoyance. "You want me to admit that it hurts knowing that I was lied to for that long? That I've wanted Logan for so long… that that's all I know how to want, anymore? That being with him is easier than-"

"What's all that got to do with Alec leaving?" Sketchy asked in confusion, clueless. But Max had stood and stalked across the room and yanked open the door… and almost got hit in the face by Alec's hand, raised to knock. So much for Darla.

"Max?" Max's hands connected with his shoulders, shoving him out of her way. He frowned after her, turning to glance at Sketchy for a moment before shrugging and trotting after Max down the hallway. "Max, wait up,"

Sketchy closed the door, went back to the discarded article. Picked it up and reread. "A friend, almost family." Really, it was supposed to be the softest truth in a piece filled with harsh, ugly truths. In reality, it might be the most believable lie he'd ever written.

"I'm going home," Max's steps didn't even falter.

"Where's home?" Alec snarked, falling into pace behind her. "T.C. or Logan's place? It's so hard to tell, these days."

Max didn't know. But she kept walking anyway.

His voice made her stop though. "I've been by your side for a year now,"

She turned. Her eyebrow arched. "Longer than that. Closer to two."

"Yeah," He shrugged, relaxing in that artificial way that mean he was readying to tense. "Maybe it's time to move on,"

She shifted, from one foot to the other. "Maybe."

His eyes glanced across her face. His voice was soft. "Would you care? If I left?"

"Of course I would, stupid, you're my friend,"

He rolled his eyes, "So says the girl that acted like she couldn't give a damn when we were at Crash,"

Her customary scowl made an appearance. "You just… caught me off guard, okay? I didn't think..." She trailed off, her hard frown falling into something soft and melancholic. They'd been through so much together, the 'end of the world', rescuing Logan, multiple times, rescuing each other, rescuing the transgenics, defeating Mathias and his band of loony snake followers, and two years worth of events before that as well, it never occurred to her that one of her best friends could just up and leave.

"I want to leave," He said, musingly, into the silence. "I don't think I can be here… watch you and Logan together,"

It was the first time he admitted anything like that even remotely aloud and Max startled. "Alec?"

"I always thought you two had this great love. I mean," He amended, so Alec, with a shrug, "Yeah, a little unconventional, repressed, and retarded, definitely," He frowned again, his voice suddenly gentling as he forged onwards, "But maybe something bigger, grander, than I could ever be, you know? Something truer than anything I could ever offer,"

Her eyes went wide. His words, from so long ago, suddenly came floating back, _always go for the ones I can't have_, and it made any attempt at speech stick in her throat.

He shrugged, looking away, 'cuz he wasn't tryin' to make some kind of mushy declaration of love, he was just tellin' it like it is. Just telling her that, "I don't know if I can watch you two together, knowin' you two are just as fucked up, just as broken, as everything else in this world. Feel like the whole fairy tale ending is just a quick gloss over, the biggest fucking joke I've ever heard of." His eyes slid up to hers, his teeth together, lips slightly parted.

His hand came up, brushed a long strand of hair away from the side of her face and she fell very, very still. His eyes were still hard, but his voice, when it came, was soft. "Don't know if I can stick around, knowin' that any day, I could be the one sacrificed to Logan, and you'd move on just as easily."

Max slapped his hand away. "Please," She rolled her eyes, "Like anything would ever happen to you,"

"If it did, would you care?" His voice was harsh as his hand fell back to his side. She remained silent, 'cuz she didn't know the words. "If you could forgive Logan for Seth, for a brother, how much more worthless must I be when it comes to the great Logan Cale?"

"Shut up," She snapped, unhappy, her shoulders hunching almost protectively, "You don't know what you're talking about,"

He sighed, shaking his head, almost ruefully. He was pushin' it he knew, and he retreated back to a safe distance within himself, behind carefully constructed walls. "Sorry… I just… never thought it'd end this way, you know?"

"Well, how else was it supposed to end?" Max demanded. "Was I supposed to admit I loved you right after admitting that you might be kind of attractive after all?"

"What?" He demanded.

She gave him the same hollow excuses she had given Sketchy, "Besides, Logan got kidnapped. Makes a girl examine her priorities… I love Logan. I get that he couldn't tell me about Seth dying on that Eyes Only mission. It was never the right time and-"

"I get that too," Alec shrugged. "I mean, lying about your brother's death, obviously a huge thing like being kidnapped would make that all better, make some under sheet activity regain importance."

"Please don't start," She sighed.

"Believe me," He grunted. "I don't want to. I want to _**stop**_, Max. I want to leave. There's nothing left. War's over. Everyone's got their happy ending,"

"There are no happy endings," She said softly. He paused, suddenly alert. It was the closest that Max would probably ever get to admitting her relationship with Logan was a lie, and it made his blood freeze in his chest.

Maybe it was a lie. But it was the only one she knew, anymore.

He took a slow step towards her, closing the distance between their already close bodies. He didn't know if he could do this without her. He needed to know. Needed to hear her say it. "I need you to tell me it's okay to leave, Max,"

The words crested in her throat and she choked on them. "I _**can't**_," She said miserably, instead.

"Then tell me you love Logan again." He pleaded, "Tell me that you're finally happy."

Her silence was overwhelming in the small hallway.

His hands glanced across her shoulders, tightened. "_Tell me_," A little shake, like he was trying to loosen the words lodged in her chest. "Tell me you could never want me."

Breath expelled in a surprised caress. "Alec-"

Another small shake, brutal in its carefully controlled gentleness... Like after everything they'd been through, he couldn't be the one to hurt her, not anymore. "Tell me we're just friends. That that's all we could ever be." He sounded desperate.

She glanced away.

"Goddammit, Max, just lie to me!"

"I don't know how!" She shouted, ripping away from him. Alec's face, burning in impotent rage, melted back into neutrality, his hands, still held up, fell slowly, almost in defeat, and he stepped away and slumped back into the wall, against yellowed, peeling paint, suddenly tired.

"I'm leaving for Texas next week. Big cities not for me, after all." He finally said into the silence. "After everything's that happened I just want to fade away..." He glanced up, admitting, "Josh will probably come with me,"

"I thought you couldn't leave," Her eyes widened in unhappiness. Her throat clenched in something that felt remarkably like panic. They couldn't both leave. Who would she have left?

"I can't stay, either," His head fell back into the wall. "Nothing's real here anymore. It's like our whole lives… it's like the last year has made a joke of us all. Love is defunct. Our purpose was the cosmic joke of the century. None of us knows anything about any others of us. We're all blind, all of us liars. Hell, you didn't know about Seth, took you weeks to figure out Logan was cured. We haven't talked to Cin and Sketchy, regularly, anyways, in almost a year, but we're still all actin' like we're best friends. I never thought Josh'd… well... And me? Somewhere along the line, I became the pretty, snarky backdrop, that's just here. Just alone. I need more than that Max." He looked at her once more, eyes blazing. "I need more than that, and I can't stay here any longer."

She leaned next to him against the wall. "Will you come back?" She glanced down, at her hands, at dirty fingernails and rough skin.

"Not if I can help it," He admitted.

Her smile quirked, a little sad. "Can I visit?"

"I'd rather you didn't," He sighed. Her quirked smile tightened, and her eyes burned in something that felt a lot like the beginning of tears. She pushed away from the wall, leaving. Alec followed a few footfalls behind… Guess that was just his place in life. Her backdrop. The pretty scenery, never meant to be the leading man. Maybe that's why he needed to breakaway. Get out from under her, and Logan's, shadow.

It didn't matter. He could leave. Logan was cured. Logan was all she wanted. She'd finally gotten everything she'd always wanted.

The tears were falling before her foot even hit the top step. Alec leaned back into the wall once more, his arms tight around her, his breath little puffs of air against her scalp. "You wanna tell me about him?" He asked quietly, "About Seth?"

"Would you settle for hearing all the ways I thought of murdering Logan?" She joked wryly through the tears.

"Yes," His cheek pressed into the top of her head.

Just friends, almost family. She had Logan; she had her happy ending.

It was a beautiful lie, but one probably not meant to last. Not forever.

Texas was overrated, anyway.


	8. M

Reviewers are made of win. Thanks to midnightjen, vancity angel (there will def. be Zack in an upcoming ficlet), Melissa, Pyro, p3karen, JG (told ya I made her intelligent!), T , wrenbailey, quirkys (again with the Zack, U is being written with your earlier request in mind), src13, and ariana.

M- When my muse first hit me upside the head months ago with the images and the _demand_ to write this, I knew I was insane. When Nic told me I should write it anyway, I knew she was crazy too. Yay! Craziness is catching!

* * *

_M is for Mystery_

Rated T

* * *

Max woke up ravenous. Starving.

Again.

Max woke up completely starkers. Naked as a jaybird.

Again.

Max woke up starving, naked, and curled up at the foot of Alec's bed. _Again_.

Dammit.

It was the third time this week, the sixth time overall, and, really, it was starting to get old. Especially since she had no idea why she kept waking up in her Second's bed hungry enough to gnaw off her own arm, without a stitch of clothing to protect her from his sleepy, confused eyes. Which were blinking slowly at her. Again.

Oh, come on. Would someone _please_ let her catch a break?

Her disgruntled expression must have amused him because his head lowered back into the pillows, his low laugh danced through the room, and Alec promptly flopped to his side and tried his best to go back to sleep. He had learned not to say anything… around the fourth time he'd woken up to find her naked in his bed. The first three times he'd been shocked as hell… right before he'd started teasing her mercilessly and peppering her with questions. He'd given up on the questions, because Max just didn't have the answers. It was a complete mystery; she didn't know how she'd gotten there, or, more importantly, why she was naked. And he'd given up on the teasing because she'd popped him with increasing force following every line that went down the lane of "I knew you wanted me," until he began complaining of whiplash.

But part of Max was scared. What if his teasing held some hint of truth? What if some deep, subconscious, instinctive, retarded force within her _did_ want Alec; what if that was why she kept ending up in his bed with no memory of the night before? Oh lord.

Well, at least she hadn't woken up plastered to his side this time; it was the little victories that counted.

And on that note, Max scowled and yanked the comforter from his body, ignoring his yelp and wrapping the heavy material around her nakedness. She shimmied, awkward as a caterpillar, off of the bed, revealing as little skin as possible, and stomped her way to his dresser. Or, as well as one can stomp when using a heavy comforter as a cape, footfalls muffled by thick, shag carpeting, snooty attempts at pride unable to change the fact that you've just flashed your second in command for the sixth time in three weeks. Alec, fully awake now, scowled at her blanketed back as he sat up, his thin t-shirt doing little to protect him from the cool morning air now that his protection had been ripped away.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," He grunted. Max ignored him, one hand clutching the ends of the comforter tightly together, the other slipping out of her cocoon to pull a t-shirt and some sweats from his dresser (she had the drawer locations down, now). Her stomp carried her the rest of the way to his bathroom and even though she had to kick it closed behind her, yank the comforter out of the way, and then kick it again, the door finally slammed nicely.

And swung back open only moments later as she was pulling the red material of his sweats up over her legs, the light grey comforter pooled on the cold tile around her feet.

"Alec!" The pants were drawn the rest of the way up quickly and she turned away from him hurriedly, hiding the last of her nudity from him.

He leaned in the doorway, his face fixed in a frown. "Nothing of yours I haven't seen already, sleepwalker."

"That's not the point!" The soft cotton of his t-shirt was yanked over her head, cascading down over a lean back and columns of dark runes that seemed borderline erotic against creamy, caramel skin.

Alec ignored her acidic remark, ignored his body's attempt to react, his face still solemn. "Max, we really need to talk about this."

She turned on him, hissing, "And you thought the best way to do that was to corner me in your bathroom while I'm getting dressed?"

He was still leaning in the doorway, blocking her path of escape. "You've been avoiding me," He said flatly. "How else am I supposed to get you to stand still for two minutes and just talk to me?"

Good point. Max _was_ avoiding him, and had been for a good three weeks. Partly because she was beyond embarrassed; she was downright mortified. Partly because she didn't have the answers; she was just as confused as he was. Lately it was because she'd noticed the increasing frequency with which she was apparently streaking to Alec's house well past midnight. Two weeks ago, the week of that odd show of lights in the sky, she'd shown up in his bed once. Last week she'd ended up next to him, practically _on_ _top_ of him, twice. And now, this was the third time this week that she'd woken up _in_ _flagrante_ _delicto, _while the crime was still blazing (as were her cheeks), at the foot of Alec's bed. What if the regularity kept increasing until she woke up next to him _every_ night? Her face fell in dismay.

"I mean," The corner of full lips lifted in a teasing smile and green gold eyes sparkled, "One of these days I'm going to want to take somebody home with me and it will be a little awkward for my bedmate to wake up with more naked females in the room than originally planned."

Her dismay twisted into disgust and she shoved her way past him, all but running out of the bathroom, out of his bedroom, and into the living room, making a beeline for the front door.

He followed her at a casual pace, fairly calm, having known from when he'd first opened sleep-addled eyes and found her in his bed that she'd eventually make a run for it. "You can't avoid me forever, you know." He called lazily after her, "This will be the sixth pair of sweats you've stolen from me. You're going to have to give them back eventually, and when you do, if I have to, I'll tie you to a chair until you talk to me."

"You won't be getting them back," Max yanked open the door, stopping to scowl at him over her shoulder, "Because I burn them as soon as I get home,"

Alec paused for a moment, words dying in his mouth, as he tried to decide whether or not she was joking. By the time he came back to himself, she was gone. Joshua, Alec's bestest friend and newest neighbor, blinked at her as she dashed down the creaking wooden steps of his moldy old apartment building.

"Cat?" He whuffed, but she kept on moving, unable to explain to her large friend why she was running barefoot out of his building in Alec's clothing at five o'clock in the morning. And even if she had been able to think of an excuse, she didn't know if she'd be able to stand the unanswered questions, or worse, the possibility of soft gleeful knowing, in Josh's wide blue eyes.

The streets were fairly deserted in the grey light and soft drizzle of a pre-sunrise Seattle. Thank God. She only had to face a few questioning glances, a few mouths, twisted in confusion, before she was safely in her own brick building, up the street. Max started stripping as soon as damp, dirty feet crossed her own threshold, soon as they touched down on clean carpeting, carrying her towards the bedroom. Alec's clothes got tossed into the pile next to her nightstand, the pile of clothing, his clothing, that was rapidly growing larger. She considered crawling into bed, hiding under her covers for the rest of the day, maybe the rest of the week. Instead, she let traitorous, untrustworthy limbs carry her towards the bathroom. She showered vigorously, previous experience having taught her that if she didn't, even after changing, the smell of Alec would follow her around all day, a constant, distracting reminder of the weirdness of the morning.

She took her time in dressing, in eating (especially in eating), in everything, trying to hold off the inevitable showdown that was sure to happen when she appeared in Command. She paused, mid-bite of her second, possibly her third, helping of toast, frowning as her focus turned inwards. Alec may have gotten in a little bit of teasing, but for the most part he had been dead serious for a change. Guess he was done avoiding the subject; he really did want to talk about her midnight jaunts… And Max knew that once he got his mind set on something… Well, it'd only be a matter of time before he made her talk to him. It was so annoying how he did that; she wished she could avoid conversations with him as deftly as she could with Logan, but Alec had this weird ability, able to corner her and force the truth out of her like no other.

Max's eyes refocused upon her plate, and she realized she had managed to mindlessly eat another piece of bread. She frowned. The only thing left, then, was to head into work… Her stomach gurgled, protestingly, and she amended. Only thing left, then, was to head into work, as soon as she fried up some of the eggs in her fridge.

Alec was at Command, of course he was, when she showed up a few hours after her hurried escape from his apartment. And, such was her life, so was Logan. Her real boyfriend, or wannabe real boyfriend, was standing next to her pretend boyfriend, talking shop; munitions, food supplies, the whole nine yards. Alec glanced up, almost lazily, like he knew she was there, and she froze as their eyes connected. Hazel eyes glinted in amusement, brown eyes slid away, and she resumed walking once more. Logan looked up as well, followed Alec's gaze, and his expression softened in greeting. Alec opened his mouth as she neared, "Hey, Max-" but her nose lifted in the air, her steps quickened, and she breezed right past them, ignoring Alec. Her ears picked up Logan's terse voice, "You two have a fight or something?"

"Or something," Alec grunted, sounding suddenly annoyed, and she felt his narrowed gaze burning across her back. She slammed the door on his irritated stare.

And slumped against it in a swell of relief and sudden weariness.

Relief because she'd avoided him once again. Weariness because… well… Avoiding Alec these last couple of weeks had been harder than she'd thought it would be. Not just because he was an insistent little bastard, but also because he was her Second, her sounding board. One of her friends. She hadn't realized what a large part of her life he'd become until she'd kicked him out of it. Now who was she supposed to whine at? Drink beer with? Watch bad, late night flicks with, drag along on missions, train with, throw punches at … the list goes on. But more importantly, who was she supposed to talk about _this_ with? Not him, that's for sure. And Joshua was out as well, because Max was beginning to get the oddest feeling that Josh thought that she and Alec, and not her and Logan, were the one that should be interested in gettin'-

That thought screeched to a halt and she jumped to the next. Who else? Max had plenty of acquaintances here in T.C., but people near n' dear to her heart; who she could trust with anything, talk to about anything, including her apparently nude dashes through T.C., that was a different story. Come to think of it, Josh and Alec might kind of be it. Cindy was out in Seattle proper, and, as she was avoiding him, she couldn't ask Alec to borrow his phone so she could spend an hour wailing to the woman about the combination weirdness/suckiness of her life. As for Logan…

Logan had always been her voice of reason and experience, kind of like a teacher, or a parent figure (okay, where the hell had that thought come from? She scowled.), but she couldn't exactly talk to him about the situation for obvious reasons. He thought she was dating Alec, and while the circumstances were admittedly strange, he'd pick up on the horror and disgust that would probably leak through when she explained that she'd been waking up next to Alec naked. Might kind of blow her cover.

The TV droned on in the background, Alec must have been in her office again, probably waiting for her to make an appearance, and Max was pulled from her thoughts as the reporter's crisp voice went into the latest news story. Another body had been found by the river; another victim in a string of recent animal attacks. The prissy little princess had the nerve to pose the question; could this newest attack somehow be related to the transgenic 'threat?' Max growled in disgust and pushed away from the door, crossing the room quickly to jab at the power button, killing the noise pollution. Assholes like that, jumping at shadows, trying to tie every bad happenstance to transgenics, made Max wonder why she should even bother trying to be the Big Bad World Saver.

Annoyed as she was, she barely heard the slight knock.

"Max, baby?" Alec's head was suddenly craning around the door and he was watching her glare at the blank TV screen, a slight, amused smile tugging at his lips. "You got a minute?"

Oh no. Why, why, why hadn't she locked the door?

"Not now, Alec," She turned her back on the TV and stomped her way to her desk, flinging herself into her chair.

Alec disappeared from view for a moment and his voice made one of her eyes twitch in sudden annoyance. "Just give me a minute with her Logey. I'll soften her up for ya,"

Max would have bet anyone her motorcycle that Alec had tagged a wink on to the end of that and she wanted to groan in frustration. Or beat her head against the desk. No wonder he'd said 'baby.' He must be annoyed. The more annoyed he was with her, the more he played up their 'relationship'. His pleasant smile was a pretty lie; her avoidance must be chafing pretty fiercely if Alec was acting like this. Part of her knew that he was just trying to force her into coming clean to Logan, but it'd take more than his annoyance and a few terms of endearment for that to happen…

Still, even if he was hiding it, his irritation was very real and she got the urge to slink out the window while his back was turned. She _made_ herself stay in her chair, wait patiently for the talk that hopefully Alec would avoid because Logan was outside the door.

No such luck.

"You know, Max, as much as I like waking up to your naked body, could you at least warn a guy before leaving marks?" Alec's smile was still warm as he stepped fully into the office.

The door swung shut on Logan's horrified, shocked face.

Max's head did hit the desk then. And she groaned, too. Look what he'd reduced her to.

Before she glanced up in sudden confusion, "Leaving marks?" Her face twisted. "What the hell are you talking about?"

One of his hands hooked lazily in the waistband of his jeans, over his zipper, and the other slowly slid his shirt up. Max's eyes went wide as washboard abs were suddenly available for her perusal.

She blinked once, twice, and struggled to find a word, any word, her mouth slightly dry, slightly open.

"Focus, Maxie," Alec smirked slowly, and whatev, Max shook her head, her mouth snapping shut. She'd seen him without a shirt dozen of times… but his provocative pose; Max was suddenly reminded of the cover models on those almost erotic fashion mags Kendra had used to snatch up by the dozen.

She cleared her throat. "What, exactly, am I looking at?" She needn't have asked. Her brain finally got over stuttering and she saw them now. Faint parallel pink marks down his abdomen, like someone had raked their nails across his skin. More than once.

"I didn't do that," Max scowled. "Maybe one of your skanks-"

"Max," He interrupted dryly, "I've been kind of avoiding taking women home, seeing as how, a, you told me if I did you'd castrate me when it got back to Logan, and, b, I'm never sure when you're going to grace me with your presence. And I sure as hell didn't have them when I went to bed last night," He fixed her with a look, finally (thankfully) releasing his shirt, letting it fall to cover tan skin once more as he sauntered up to her desk. He lived in Seattle for chrissakes; it was overcast six days out of seven. How the hell had he managed to obtain a tan on his stupid abs?

"Well I didn't do it!" She exclaimed, focusing on more important things, her eyes finally able to swing up and fixate on his face.

"This from the woman who can't even remember last night," Alec rolled his eyes, leaning over her desk, knuckles hard on the well-worn desktop.

"I didn't do it," She insisted stubbornly. "Besides, don't you think you would have woken up if I did?" There was a slight pause before she added, petulantly, "Which I _didn't_…"

At least… she didn't think she did… Besides, like she'd said, he would have woken up if she'd decided to scrape at his stomach while he was sleeping. He was a transgenic, he was supposed to be alert, ready for anything, even in sleep.

"Yeah," He pursed his lips before adding, "But then again, I haven't been waking up _any_ of the nights that you show up. Must be overworked or something," He ended in a mutter, straightening and shaking his head in embarrassment. Maybe he'd been out of Manticore too long… he was getting soft.

He shook his head again and backed it up with a smile as a thought danced across his mind. "How's that saying go?" He asked with a grin, "Overworked and undersexed?"

Max's nose wrinkled in disgust, "Your sex life is the last thing I need to hear about,"

"Make that my _lack_ of sex life. Besides, you shouldn't knock it, sister. If you'd actually allow me to get some once in a while, maybe it would keep me up long enough to solve the mystery of Max's midnight runs." His face twisted into a wicked, dirty grin. "In fact, if you'd like to join me, maybe work out some of your own frustration…"

He didn't even see her slit-eyed scowl, his smutty smirk turning thoughtful. "You know, that isn't actually a half-bad idea."

"What are you talking about?" Her face narrowed in intense loathing, "I am _not_ sleeping with you,"

"Well you should."

Wow. That came out all wrong. He held up his hands entreatingly before her mouth could fling all the disgust her face was showing. "Strictly platonic, of course… Just stay the night at my place." But he couldn't help adding, "That way you won't have to streak across T.C. to get to me," His smile was crooked, charming, and it made her kind of want to punch him in the face.

Max sighed, "Alec-"

He shrugged; tense and release, like he knew she wouldn't go for it. "It's a good idea, admit it. I'll stay awake all night and-"

"No _way_ am I staying with you-"

"Why not?" He argued. "You're going to show up in my bed anyway. Why don't you come up with a better idea, smart guy?"

"First of all," She huffed, "Don't call me a guy. Secondly, _not a chance_."

"Well, I don't see you offering suggestions! All you do is avoid the subject." His eyes narrowed. "I mean, the way you've been evading me, refusing to talk about it, or try to fix it, it's almost like it doesn't bother you that you streak after midnight just so you can crawl in next to me,"

"You think I want to wake up next to you naked?!" Max demanded.

"I'm beginning to think so. Yes." He replied solemnly.

The room descended into silence, Max's angry eyes kept darting past him, towards the door, and he wondered why she looked so trapped, the annoyance in her eyes warring with panic. Why did Max always have to run? What was there to run from? Why couldn't she just stay and talk to him? On good days, they were fairly friendly… Which, given Max's history, might actually make her feel even more trapped then if they still hated each other's guts. Girl had serious relationship issues.

"You want to solve this mystery or not?" He demanded.

"Fine," Max finally grunted unhappily. "Starting next week, you're staying at my place." She paused, rethinking it, and amended. "Actually, might as well start tonight, since it keeps increasing. You never know."

Alec nodded, still serious, his eyes slightly pleased; maybe he hadn't been expecting her to go along with it so easily. Whatever, they both knew he'd have talked her into it eventually, all she was doing was saving herself some time. He spun and headed towards the door, pulling it open to reveal Logan, still waiting impatiently. He flashed her a smile over his shoulder, "Okay, babe, I'll grab my toothbrush and meet you at your place around eleven." He turned, smiling slowly, evilly, at Logan, obviously listening. "We're having a sleepover."

"ALEC!" Max's annoyed exclamation further compounded Alec's amusement at seeing Logan's face go white. That's what they get for putting him in the middle of their twisted love affair. That and Logan had been particularly douche-like lately and Alec was finding it harder and harder to like the guy, harder and harder to dredge up any sympathy for him and his snappy fingers, and grabby hands, and biting remarks. Jealousy did not suit Logan at all. Alec was so glad he was free of vices like that.

"See you tonight, _Maxie_," Her name slid past his lips, like a caress.

Alec whistled all the way to Mess.

Logan scowled, slipping into Max's office, pretending he didn't notice her pink face, her sparkling eyes.

"Any news?" She asked, pretending for all the world like Logan hadn't just overheard her making midnight plans with Alec.

"Another body found by the river," His voice was tight, annoyed, but not because of what they were discussing.

"Saw it on the news already," Max scowled at his tone. "Anything else?"

"Doctor Shankar got her hands on the autopsy report." He gentled his voice, made his face neutral once more, because it was important to remind her that _he_ was the good guy. "That body? It was a Familiar, just like all the others."

"Great."

Logan frowned at the snap in her voice. Max sighed. Although his jealousy was hard to bear, it wasn't _totally_ his fault she was in a bad mood. It wasn't his fault Alec knew how to rile her up. It wasn't his fault she was under a lot of pressure. Wasn't his fault that something inside of her had decided that sleeping next to Alec buck naked was on the to-do list for last night. It _was_ his fault that he was a jerk when he was jealous, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "Sorry," She amended her harsh tone, covering her annoyance, thinking up a quick excuse for her waspishness. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad there's one less bad guy in the world… But if I hear one more time that we're responsible for these deaths…" She shook her head and hoped he bought it. He did, of course he did.

"There is one other thing," He crossed behind her, tossing the map that she hadn't realized he'd been holding onto her desk. She tried not to bristle as he leaned over the back of her chair (what, was he frickin' suicidal? She'd told him time and time again-). Max took a calming breath, and tried to pay attention.

"Matt Sung sent me this earlier. See all these X's?" He pointed at the map, "Each of these marks is a point at which a Familiar's body has been found."

Max frowned, leaning over the map and away from Logan. Logan leaned in further and she ignored him, focusing instead on those black X's. They were all heavily centered around the Duwamish river that came in from the wilderness, cut through Seattle, and emptied into Elliott Bay. The way the marks were arranged... It was a trail, leading upstream, out of the city and into the woods. Her eyes widened. "You don't think-"

He straightened with a small frown, "That a vigilante is tracking down the Familiars to their base of operations and leaving bread crumbs in the form of bodies? Actually, that's exactly what I'm beginning to think."

Max was still frowning pensively at the map when Logan shook his head and continued, "We've got to find this guy and stop him, Max."

Max started in surprise; wait… what?

She didn't say it out loud, but her expression must have given her away because Logan frowned in answer. "This is bad for us, Max. The publicity, the negative media attention. If they ever make the connection between the Cult and us, we could really be in for it. Killing isn't the answer."

Max scowled, swiveling in her chair to scowl up at him. "You do realize that this is a fanatic-minded Cult following that wants to exterminate all life on Earth, don't you? And you're worried that there's one less of these guys? That we're getting a little bit of negative publicity?" Okay, so maybe it bugged her too, but one less Familiar still far outweighed a little prissy news anchor that nobody really listened to, anyway, especially when Eyes Only was around to set everybody straight.

He sighed, "Max, I'm just saying-"

"Whoever this person is, he's just making my job easier, Logan," Max turned away from him.

Logan's eyes widened in surprise. "Max-"

But Max wasn't talking about this anymore. She saw so clearly what Logan could not. There was no reasoning with these people. How do you reason with a person willing to sacrifice their children, their wives? What kind of discussion do you have with a person bred (literally) and raised to be a genocidal, snake-supremacist, sociopath?

Logan's look of disappointment left a bitter taste in her mouth. God, what did he want from her? She escaped from Command early that day. She shouldn't let him chase her from her own office, but she didn't feel like dealin' with it right now; it was an argument they'd had before, one that always left her feeling brow-beaten and drained. Plus, she had to go pick up her apartment; no way was she lettin' Alec see how messy her bedroom had become lately (not that she was even letting him into her bedroom). And she still needed to hide all his clothes. Payback and whatnot; he was never getting those sweats back, never. Besides, they were comfy, and sometimes she needed to use them because it seemed like she was missing some of her own pajamas.

The knock came at eleven o'clock, on the dot. Say what you want about Alec, at least he was punctual. And intelligent. He'd brought beer with him, and Max was reminded, not for the first time, why she put up with him and why it'd been so hard to avoid him.

"I mean, they're insane," She took another sip.

"Uh-huh."

"So why shouldn't we deal with them before they deal with us… and the rest of the world, too." She slammed the bottle down onto the scratched surface of her small table.

"No arguments here," He shrugged. It was a conversation he was well-versed in, having had it with her after almost every time she'd argued with Logan about diplomacy versus necessity. There was a time and a place for everything; stuck in Jam Pony, surrounded by police, was not the best place to be putting Familiars down, especially when the population didn't even know that the Cult existed… but someone else doing their eventual job for them? How could that be a bad thing? They were talking about the apocalypse, here.

She slumped into the table, burying her face into her arms with a moan. "Why doesn't Logan _see_?"

"Max, Logan is a journalist, and at the end of the day, an optimist too…" His voice was dry. "Why wouldn't he believe in the power of words, of reason? He's not a soldier, like us,"

It was the first time in a long time, probably since Lydecker (and he'd been biased;_ my kids_, my ass), that she'd heard herself referred to as a soldier. She glanced up in surprise, brown eyes immediately connecting with hazel. He rolled his eyes, misreading her look.

"Max, you can't moan to me about Logan for half an hour and then turn around and get all annoyed when I call it like it is. Some people are doers, and some people are 'sit back and hack about it'…ers."

"I'm not annoyed," She retaliated defensively. She'd just been… put off guard… is all. To be called a soldier by someone from Manticore, someone who watched the antics of the police with amusement, chuckled at the patrols of the Army… it was, oddly enough, kind of like a compliment, when you thought about it… A stupid compliment. But still kind of a compliment.

He took another swig from the beer, looking away from her. "So, cards, or TV?"

It was creeping up on two in the morning, and Alec was relaxing back into the sofa. Despite the fact that he was over here to keep an eye on her, he kept looking like he was about to drop off, so Max kept having to nudge him with her bare foot from the other end of the couch. He would startle, glance around, smile a bit sheepishly at her, and try to fixate on her TV once more, but Max was beginning to think he was a lost cause. Maybe the overworked thing really did apply to him; he looked positively droopy.

He melted once more, head falling backwards, and Max gave up. She sighed, standing and stretching slowly. Maybe she'd take a nap, too, soon as she changed into her PJ's.

Alec woke up to a very warm body, curled in his lap, soft breaths washing across his chest. He blinked in confusion at the ceiling for a moment, before looking forward slowly. His neck protested after a long night of an awkward angle, but he forced it the rest of the way anyway, looking at the top of her dark hair, her face turned down, slightly pouty in sleep, her palm, pressed over his heart.

"Max?" One of his arms unhooked from around her so that he could rub at an aching neck. The other arm tightened, his hand splaying surely against the runes on her hip.

Max startled awake and would have fallen off his lap if his arm hadn't been tight around her. "Alec?" She asked, sleepy, confused, her hand heart fisting in the soft material of his t-shirt. She blushed scarlet as she very slowly looked down, already knowing why the parts of her that weren't pressed to Alec were very, very cold.

"Could my life suck any worse?" She whined.

"Yes," He grinned, and she wondered when he was going to let go of her. "We could _both_ be naked."

Max tried to picture it, but all the pictures were very _not_ platonic so she just blushed harder and scowled at him. "Close your eyes." She hissed.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled in amusement, his eyes falling shut. Max released her hold on him and pulled herself off of his lap. She wondered why she hadn't been smart enough to blur all the way to the bedroom when she turned to shut the door and realized he'd watched her naked ass almost all the way across the floor.

"I hate you!" The door slammed.

Alec rubbed at mussed hair with a sigh. "It's not my fault," He muttered to himself, "I'm a guy," He was annoyed, though. How had he not realized it when she'd curled into his lap? How could he have not woken up?

How the hell was he going to survive the day smelling like Max?

He pushed into her bedroom, ignoring her protests of annoyance, and stomped into her bathroom, ignoring her nakedness. Max, in turn, ignored the sound of the shower, wondering why the hell she couldn't find the pajamas she'd changed into the night before. Ah well, what was one more question on top of all the others that had been piling up lately? She sighed and got dressed for another fun-filled day of transgenic problems, police patrols, flaming X's, Logan's petty jealousy, and (hopefully) avoiding Alec.

They didn't speak about it the rest of the day, both a little bit embarrassed. Logan glared at Alec and would hardly say two words to her. Pettiness aside, her day wasn't all bad; at least no other bodies had been found. For a while there, Max had been beginning to get worried that _she_ was the reason Familiars kept ending up dead. But no, apparently she just wanted to sleep next to Alec naked… which might actually be worse, now that she'd had a chance to think about it…

Alec spent the night on her couch again. And Max almost wept in happiness when she woke up in her own bed, in her own (well, actually his) sweats. In fact, he stayed with her an entire week and she didn't wake up next to him again after that first night…

But it wasn't all good news. Whispers were starting to circulate by the middle of the next week. Everyone knew that she and Alec weren't really dating… Sometimes they had to straighten out some of the new arrivals; people often got the strangest idea that all the arguing they did translated into some kind of weird sexual aggression. By now, mostly everyone realized that Alec was just the very believable and attractive cover story that was protecting her from Logan; or, protecting Logan from her, weird how everyone kept getting the two confused...

But with Alec spending every night at her apartment…

Max stomped into his office. "Will you please stop telling people about our 'sleepovers'?"

"Why? T.C. is a small place, they know about it anyway." His feet were kicked up and he was in the middle of making a paper airplane. "Besides, I'm just doing my part in getting Logan to back off."

Max scowled. He was doing his job a little too well… Logan could barely look at her lately, and when he did speak to her, he was so moody that Max kind of wanted to tear out her hair in frustration. Although she'd caught hints of it before, for the first time Max finally completely understood what Alec had been trying to tell her the last few months; it was not fun to be on Logan's bad side… He could be kind of a jerk when he wanted to be. Maybe it was time to call her 'sleepovers' with Alec off... She didn't know how much more of Logan's harsh annoyance she could take. Besides, after that first night, she hadn't woken up next to Alec naked again, so maybe her weird, nocturnal romps were finally at an end. She hoped so. Much more of this from Logan, and her feelings for him would be in serious jeopardy. If they weren't already, she scowled.

"Do some work," She finally huffed, turning on her heel, stomping out.

"This is work," He called after her. He smirked as the door slammed behind her. He unfolded the paper airplane, looked again at the names upon it, the list of 'suspects' that Logan had given to him that morning; the list of transgenics that could possibly be responsible for the Familiar killings. Alec stared at the paper for a long moment before balling it up and tossing it across the room, straight into the trash. Gooooal.

Logan could imply that some transgenics were unstable all he wanted, and maybe he'd had a point when he'd brought up Ben, but Alec had seen the pictures… there was just no way that whatever was killing Familiars was human.

Max took one look at the list, looked at Logan, and said very calmly, "I'm busy." Maybe it was cruel to toss it into the trash in front of him, but this had to stop. Plus, the way he'd been acting lately… why should she have to play nice?

"Max, think about it, it could be one of the transhumans, gone feral." Logan frowned, as he tried to show her how blind she was being. Just because she thought of every transgenic as 'family' didn't mean that they weren't capable of atrocities. "It could be someone like Ben, who-"

Her voice was low, but it cut across the room like a knife. "I _said_, I'm _busy_," She glanced up and her eyes caught in the light, a flash of gold, of retina, shining through the brown, and Logan's frown faltered slightly. He was out the door before he even realized that some kind of latent survival instinct had made him rush out of there. He chalked it up to stress, tucked it away, and pretended he'd left because he'd wanted to, because she was being unreasonable.

Max pushed down the annoyance and went back to her paperwork. Had Logan always been this much of a jerk or was her 'relationship', both the real friendship and the fake romance, with Alec just now bringing out the worst in him? Max didn't like the answer her memory, unsoftened by the lack of the normal mushy emotions, tried to supply her with… so she drowned it out by attacking her work with gusto.

It was almost midnight when the soft knock came, and she was almost glad to hear it. She'd been distracted all day. Her talk with Logan had put something within her on edge and she had the oddest feeling that she was supposed to be doing something… But whatever it was, it was forgotten as Alec peered around the door. "Ready to go home?"

Not even going into how wrong that sounded, Max stretched slowly, arms overhead. "Maybe you don't need to come over tonight," She sighed, trying to release some of the tenseness, the readiness, from her body. Moonlight shone in, through the rain, through the window, and glanced across her long hair, the skin of her arms, the dark runes. "Haven't woken up to you in almost a week,"

"All the more reason I should come over then," He said dryly, stepping into the room and shutting the door gently. "I'm overdue for some naked Max snuggles,"

She shook her head in annoyance, in amusement, her arms dropping back into her lap. The stretch had done little, she was still tingling. "You are such an idiot," She rolled her eyes, leaning forward to click off the lamp on her desk, plunging the room into soft darkness, the more than ample light of a three-quarters full moon casting everything within the room in a silvery glow.

His smile crinkled his eyes, "At least I'm your idiot,"

"There is that," She shrugged, pushing away from her desk as thunder rolled outside, eyes scanning the room quickly for her jacket. It was over there, by her Alec.

She was halfway across the room before she recognized it.

Her Alec?

That was weird.

She shook her head and her vision went hazy; she stumbled a bit and Alec darted forward, catching her wrist.

"Max, you okay?"

"Fine," She looked up slowly. Alec blinked, a trick of the light (what light, his mind argued) had made her eyes go golden for a moment and he glanced down and away. And frowned as his gaze fell on her arm, still caught in his grasp. His eyes narrowed.

"Max, what is that?"

Max's eyes followed his gaze, and she glanced down at her arm.

Even in the dim lighting of the soft darkness, it was easy to see. The runes were black. Really black. Not just tattoo-like marks on her arm, but a pervading absence of light that seemed to reach through her skin and into some empty universe beyond. And they were moving, almost writhing, like a living darkness.

"What the fuck is that?!" Alec's voice was growing horrified, but Max barely heard him, the loud, sudden sound of her blood pumping in her ears making everything else dull and distant. She wrenched away from him, still staring down at her wrist. Tendrils of darkness bled from the runes, creeping across her skin, lines of black running together until her forearms were criss-crossed in the absence of light. But it didn't stop there, crawling up her arms, and Max could only watch, strangely calm, her eyes seeing with a sharpness and clarity she'd never experienced before.

Or had she? This all seemed so familiar…

She glanced up at Alec's face, swimming through a strange, misty haze, and part of her registered his horror in annoyance as he took in her gleaming eyes and strange calm, but the rest of her found the familiar planes of his face… soothing. Almost endearing.

Hers.

The tendrils of black emptiness and ice were at her collar now, and Alec was reaching for her, of course he wouldn't run away, he was hers, he'd never run, even as the darkness seeped from her skin to became a dark writhing fog. She felt rather than heard the familiar sensation of bones popping within that sucking darkness and snapping and realigning and all she knew was a familiar pain that no longer seemed as bad as the first time it'd happened. This time, she didn't even scream into the echoing emptiness that would have swallowed it anyway.

And just before it all went black, she vaguely hoped that this would be the time that she'd be able to remember what happened.

Alec was on the verge of hyperventilation when the misty darkness began seeping from those tendrils of black, covering her form, hiding her from his eyes, sucking all light and noise from the room until even his cat-like senses could make out nothing in the total darkness. He reached for her hidden form anyway, and had to rear away at the icy chill that burned his fingertips.

The room was dark for an eternity, or maybe it was only for a moment, before the shadows began shrinking back, pulling away from the corners of the room, sucking back to the center and coalescing there into the form of a very large panther.

Max was nowhere to be seen.

"You've got to be shitting me." Alec blinked as the darkness became one with the panther's dark coat.

Yellow eyes blinked up at him slowly in the soft moonlight and he almost choked at the intelligence, the knowing, there.

"Max?" He managed.

The cat looked at him in something like disdain and Alec had to fight to control the hysterical laughter that threatened to erupt.

"Well, that answers why you're always naked," Alec grunted, strangely calm considering the fact he was on the verge of hysterics. The darkness had apparently poofed her garments into non-existence. And some other things were missing off her desk as well, like the universe had to eat something to provide the energy for whatever it was that had just happened.

The larger than normal panther was watching him in impatience, the muscles under a gleaming black coat rippling, forecasting its intent to move. God, could his life be any more weird? He started as it moved past him, brushing his knees hard enough to make him stagger. The large cat paused at the door, and turned her head to stare at him over one sleek shoulder.

That's it. He was officially crazy. And sleep-deprived. There was no way this was happening. "There is no way this is happening," He repeated out loud and shook his head. But he didn't wake up. He opened his eyes and the panther was still staring at him and he got the vaguest sense of impatience… of annoyance…

Maybe it really was Max.

He opened the door for the impatiently waiting cat, and part of him wanted to throw back his head and laugh in hysteria, how'd Max-as-panther(?) get through doors without thumbs? But Max-as-panther(?) was booking it, and Alec frowned, and had to trot to keep up. Command was empty. Figures. No one would believe him when he told them… Of course Max would be difficult enough to pull some mojo when there were no eye witnesses around to confirm it.

The panther was moving fast, though, too fast, and he gave up on thought and just concentrated on keeping up. It was rapidly apparent that it was not leading him willy-nilly through the city, through a rain that was hard and bone-chilling. Every line of the large cat's body was fluid, rippling in readiness. The panther was on a mission, but was apparently letting him along for the ride because whenever it got too far ahead, it stopped, waiting in shadows, bleeding darkness, until Alec could once again just barely see it… before it slipped away again and Alec had to race to keep up once more.

He followed the animal on foot, through the rain, for almost an hour, out of the heart of T.C., through the back alleys and darkness of Seattle after midnight. Checkpoints seemed to be no problem. He assumed that it merely sprang over the large fences but the way in which it was on one side of the fence, melted into darkness, and then was suddenly on the other side, he wouldn't have been surprised if someone had told him it merely blended into the night and walked, misty and insubstantial, straight through the chainlink. Guess that answers the door/no thumbs question. The trek took him to the city limits, and then beyond, into the forest. It didn't take him long to realize they were headed for the river.

The LCD display of his phone read 2:03 a.m. when the large cat slowed to a halt. He'd been walking for almost two hours, not that he was tired, and it'd finally stopped raining. But the mud of the river's embankment had done a real number on his boots, and he was drenched, his clothes still sticking uncomfortably to his body. Wet and annoyed, he vaguely thought that this better be worth it.

Mostly he was just glad that they hadn't run across any Familiars, because his night was weird enough, he didn't need to see his shape-shifting friend gore one of their mortal enemies on top of it. The cat was peering up at him, golden eyes glinting in the moonlight, and he crouched down next to her/it/whatever, his fingers resting gently against a rain-slick pelt. She really was large; sitting next to him, she was about as tall as he was, crouched. How was that important? It wasn't, but his brain wasn't working so well, right now. He looked up, through the trees, at the structure she had led him to.

They were in the middle of nowhere, but the complex was huge, and really, downright creepy. On a slight bluff, overlooking the river, its top rising from the forest like a gothic monstrosity, it could very well be just a very scary looking school… more likely, it was some kind of prison or mental hospital. The Familiars had hinted they were holding some transgenics… maybe this was it. Maybe she'd used some kind of mystical, runic, kitty power to track down the Familiars and their base of operations.

A twig snapped behind him, and before he could whirl, the cold barrel of a semi-automatic pressed to the back of his neck, against his barcode.

"Don't move, transgenic filth," The voice was cold, impersonal, full of a hatred that was unfathomable, bordering on the insane if not well within it, and Alec froze. Great. A Familiar. Just his luck.

"Are you alone?" The man demanded and Alec's eyes darted to the side and widened, because the large panther his hand had been resting against was nowhere to be seen. His arm was in the air, touching nothing but night. Figures. Thanks, Max. "Stand up," The voice came again.

He lifted his hands overhead, standing slowly, when a muffled grunt and a thud from behind made him whirl.

Alec was no pansy, no virgin to bloodshed, but he had to look away as the Familiar lifted his arms, shrieking not in pain but in terror, thrashing on the ground, trying to protect his face, his neck, from fangs and powerful jaws that tore easily through skin, trying to get out from under the crushing force of four paws, the wicked sharpness of gleaming claws.

It was over quickly. Alec didn't dry-heave, but he sat down rather abruptly, his face tight, as thrashing stilled and screams gave way to gurgles, and then to a silence that was overwhelming in the hushed, wary woods. The overly large panther padded towards him, eyes still burning, and he reared away, scrambling to his knees, preparing to run… but he just wasn't as fast as the panther that seemed even angrier now that he'd tried to book it. His boots couldn't gain purchase on the muddy forest floor and she lunged as he fell, twisting to his butt. Powerful jaws locked around the arm that had come up in warding, brutalizing skin, and Alec grunted in pain, kicking at the creature. Her eyes glowed, bright in the darkness, and she must have used some secret kitty power against him, because the pain intensified, racing up his arm, stopping at his shoulder, _before_ her jaws locked even tighter.

Alec decided that maybe fighting a mystical, predatory jungle cat almost the size of him might not be in his best interest. He forced himself to relax, to limpness, reminding himself, despite the fact that she was _frickin' biting him_, she'd saved him from the Familiar. And as he relaxed, the cat did too, finally grudgingly releasing him. His entire arm burned with cold fire. She, or it, whatever, sat next to him, like they were friends or something. He resigned himself to glaring at her, before glancing down at his bloodied arm, at torn skin and the deep mark of teeth.

"Bitch," He muttered. A rumbling kind of half-purr, half-growl was his only answer.

They sat there for a few more moments, Alec doing his best to not look at the gored remains, the splatters of blood across the forest floor, doing his best to ignore his arm, burning in pain… The cat had been licking at its paws, almost distastefully, as he tried to collect his thoughts. He thought, just for a moment, in hysteric amusement, that maybe she didn't like the taste of blood.

"So, this is it," Alec finally grunted into the silent night air. "The Familiar's base,"

The cat paused in its cleaning. It resumed after a moment, hardly paying him any attention. Alec was beginning to wonder if Max was even in there…

She ditched him shortly after that.

Oh yeah. She was in there.

It was almost five in the morning when Alec made it back to his apartment. Joshua, coming down the steps, frowned at his muddy clothes, the dirt across his face, the wound on his arm, the dried streaks of blood.

"Cat?" He whuffed.

"Not now, Josh," He grunted, taking the steps two at a time. He could feel guilty later. Right now he was dumping every ounce of peroxide he had on his arm. It was still stinging like a mother fucker. His whole arm almost felt cold again, like it couldn't make up its mind between burning and chilling. Alec let himself into the apartment.

And plastered himself against the door.

The damn panther, completely dry, its dark coat spotless, was sitting before him, its tail switching slowly, back and forth.

"Go away," He hissed. Another switch. Almost like amusement.

Stupid human. Don't you know you belong to me?

Alec slunk away from the entrance, dashed for his room, slamming the door shut. And turned to find the cat in the room with him, still watching him with wide, shining eyes.

"Oh no," He backed up, waving his hands in warding. "Don't look at me like that. You don't even _like_ me, Max."

Maybe, but Max as cat had a little bit more insight than Max as human, and whether or not she always liked him, he was hers just the same. Especially now. His knees hit the edge of the bed and he sat down abruptly. The panther leapt easily and settled in, hogging the end of the bed. He frowned, leaning down to untie his boots, trying to ignore her.

"I am not crazy," She heard him muttering to himself. "This is all just a really bad dream." If she had more facial expressions, she might have rolled her eyes, instead she just watched him. He kicked off his boots, flopped onto his back. She twisted, and her front paws dug into his stomach, stretching, kneading gently, almost lovingly, just for a moment, nails pressing into him just slightly… Well… he glanced at her, that explains the mystery of the marks… but more importantly, he needed to stitch the rather messy puncture wounds on his arm. He sat up, frowning at his bloodied forearm, and a rumbling little warning caught his ear. He glanced up into wide, yellow eyes, and his mind went hazy… It was getting so hard to concentrate…

Oh, that bitch.

"Hey," He slurred, "What are you doing to-" Right before he collapsed backwards, asleep.

Sometimes it's good to be the Alpha, the panther thought to itself smugly, right before it twisted, its long back, soft pelt, resting against Alec's side. Breathing became even, eyes blinked once, twice, started to droop. They finally closed all together and fur turned to living night, tendrils sucking back in towards each other, revealing naked skin until the cat was gone and there was nothing left but a sleeping girl, next to the man she was having a hard time accepting as the one that made sense, the one that was for her.

Alec woke a few hours later to a warm, naked body wrapped around his. And almost shrieked, stumbling from the bed. She blinked, slowly, sitting up. Before blushing, her arms coming up around her breasts. But Alec was backing away from her… like her nakedness was a horror, or something.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She demanded, her nose wrinkling.

"Me?!" He demanded, his back hitting the sunlit window. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"What are you-"

Oh.

The memories assaulted her. The previous weeks, all the strain she'd been under, all the prophecies bleeding together in her mind, on her skin. Hunting for the Familiars, following that sense of purpose to their base… Strange… why hadn't she remembered all this before? She could have pondered it, could have realized that before last night, before Alec had seen her, she hadn't really been ready to accept it, ready to face herself… Instead, Max started hyperventilating.

"Oh my god, I'm a freak of nature!" Her face buried into her hands.

"Now, Max," His voice was soothing, but he stayed plastered to the window, so how was that supposed to make her feel better?

Her shoulders quivered, and Alec frowned. What? Max couldn't be- He crept forward, his hand coming up to glance across her shoulder. "Max?"

"This is so unfair," Her voice was thick with unshed tears, with unhappiness. "Like my life doesn't suck enough,"

"Think on the bright side," He sat gingerly next to her.

"What bright side?" She demanded, looking up at him, and Christ, she _was_ crying and it made his gut take a dive.

"Well," He shrugged, settling more surely against her side. "You're a mystical Familiar fighting machine, with a radar for finding them to boot. That makes our lives easier, don't you think?"

"Sherlock Logan will be so pleased," Max responded, biting sarcasm doing nothing to ease the moistness of her eyes, "We've finally found who's been doing all the damage,"

Alec shook his head, and he didn't really know what to say, so he wrapped his arms around her instead. What could he say? Hey, sorry, you're the panther equivalent of a werewolf… Guess the term would be werecat or werepanther or something… Alec kept his mouth shut, just let his arms stay tight around her. She hunched into him, crying bitterly into his dirty t-shirt, and this, this is the point that Alec realized how grossly unfair their lives were. Not when he'd watched a Familiar be killed, not when he'd been bitten, not when he'd come home to find her waiting for him… this is the point, Max shaking with silent tears, that Alec thought that it just wasn't fair.

"It'll be okay," He murmured and his cheek pressed against the top of her head. He didn't know if she heard him, but that was okay, because he didn't know if it would be, not really.

He got her a washcloth for her face when the tears finally stopped. He put on some water for some coffee while she changed into some of his oversized clothes. It was weird how normal, how domestic, it all seemed in the face of what had happened the night before.

And of course Alec had to get all nosy. It was part of her life, now, weird though it may be. She couldn't just pretend like it hadn't happened. Actually, she tried to, but he kept asking questions, wouldn't let her forget.

"It's not a full moon," He pointed out.

"So?" She scowled, snatching the mug away from him, the spoon clinking against the rim.

"So, what's the _modus operandi_? What causes the transformation?" He asked, pulling the kettle from the burner. "What triggers it?"

"How the hell should I know?" Max demanded, "It just kind of happens when it feels like it, just like I just knew that the Familiars were on their way to Jam Pony when we were trapped. _It just happens_." Her tone of voice told him how happy that lack of control made her; about as much as the fact that it happened in the first place. Not at all.

He frowned. "Do you remember putting me under?"

Max blushed as he poured the water into her cup, as the hot water sloshed over the instant coffee mix. "Maybe," She hedged, maneuvering her hands to avoid the splash of hot water over the rim.

He pulled away, his tone neutral. "Do you remember biting me?"

Her blush deepened and she started stirring her coffee with a vengeance.

"In case you're wondering," He set the kettle down, "what I'm really asking is _why_ did you bite me?"

Because he was hers. Or at least that's what she seemed to think when she was a freakishly huge cat. And he'd tried to run from her, which was not in the rules. And the cat had recognized that being alone would just not do, and apparently there was only one way to keep him by her side, and that was by… biting him? "Why do you even care?" Max demanded, "It's already healed, anyway,"

"What?" He demanded and looked down, and holy crap it was. He hadn't even noticed, but all that was left of the wound from the night before were dried streaks of blood and a little bit of dirt. He rotated his wrist in wonder. It'd been easy not to notice, actually, because he'd been avoiding looking at it, and, less than five minutes ago, his arm had still felt like it was on fire, but now… now…

"Max, what the hell is that?" His voice was very, very flat as he looked at the underside of his forearm.

Max glanced. "Dirt," She shrugged.

He waved his arm in front of her face. "That is _not_ dirt." She set her cup down in annoyance and grabbed at his arm, holding him still so she could see.

It wasn't dirt.

It was a rune, where a deep puncture mark had previously been. And more were bleeding through the skin, even as she looked, at the places her teeth had torn skin.

"You infected me!" He cried in horror, staring down at his arm.

"I did not!" She scowled back, mentally worried that she had as she watched the runes develop up across his arm, his bicep. He shoved his shirt up, they were still developing, but the didn't push past his shoulder, forming a sparse, almost tattoo-like sleeve. This was so not good.

"I swear to God, Max, if I turn into a werecat, I am never talking to you again," He pulled his arm from her finally, still scowling down at it, hardly paying her any attention.

"That won't happen!" She scowled.

"How do you know?" He demanded, turning on her.

She didn't, which became readily apparent two nights later when Alec broke into a cold sweat.

"Don't worry," She murmured, and there was something ageless and knowing in her eyes. Her hand ran across his sweaty forehead, through his hair, as he hunched over in agony, finally dropping to his knees. She followed him down, her hand still patting at him soothingly as another tremor of pain wracked his body, part of her wondering why the covering darkness didn't happen for his transformation, why his clothes were straining under the shifting mass of twisting muscle. "It only hurts the first few times." She murmured, almost sadly, feeling ice start to creep from her own runes. "You get used to it."

Logan let himself into her apartment, using the key she'd given him in case of emergency. Well, no one had seen hide nor hair of her or Alec for an entire day, and he hadn't seen her for even longer, and he'd say that was emergency enough. He wondered if she was avoiding him… but no, she wouldn't do that. Something must be wrong. Plus, Logan had done some investigating, driven his car deep into the wilderness, trekked through the forest and the mud, following the trail on his map, because he hadn't seen her for days and somebody had to do it… and all that work had paid off, because the trail of bodies had led him to a large, fortress-like mental asylum that had supposedly been shut down years ago, but that was far from unoccupied… He frowned, still thinking to himself as he crossed her living room quickly, headed to her bedroom…He needed to tell her that he'd tracked down the Familiar's base of operations, needed to start making plans for getting inside… He was so caught up in his thoughts, when he pushed open the door, and glanced up, he wasn't prepared, and almost fell backwards in surprise.

Apparently Max and Alec didn't believe in sheets. Or in pajamas. He looked away in anger, in bitterness, at how _tenderly_ Alec seemed to be holding the woman that rightly should belong to him.

He let himself out, bitterly, angrily, unable to resist slamming the door behind him.

Alec blinked hazel eyes, wiggled his nose at the hair that was tickling him, and stretched slowly, his naked skin sliding… against… hers…? He released her quickly, barely noticing as she murmured something, and he crept from the bed. He grabbed at some of his sweats, piled on her floor, and booked it before she could even sit up slowly in sleepy- eyed surprise. He rushed out her apartment, past Joshua who'd been coming to check on her, since he hadn't seen her in a while.

"Cat?" Josh whuffed in question as Alec flew past him on the stairwell.

"Don't remind me!" He shouted back in response.

He avoided her for almost a week. During the day. Sometimes he didn't do so well during the night. Sometimes he'd wake up in the morning, his arm, wrapped in runes, wrapped around her. And the more often it happened, the calmer Max seemed to be… the more knowing Max seemed to be… He wondered… wondered if she was finally growing to accept what had been forced upon her… Wondered if sinking her teeth into him had calmed something within her.

Maybe it was easier for her to accept, now that she wasn't alone. Now that she had someone to take care of.

She was lounging in his door when he came home for the night, and he almost started in surprise. He glanced around, frowning in suspicion.

"You left the door unlocked, stupid," She rolled her eyes, "I didn't materialize through the wall. I only do the misty thing when…" She trailed off, looking away, 'cuz it was still a little hard to talk about.

"It's not going to stay just us, Max," He frowned at her. "Might as well get used to talking about it now,"

She glanced up in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

His eyes sparked green, otherworldly green, and he shrugged. "Just a feeling I have,"

"Fine," Max scowled. "Since you're so comfortable talking about it, why do you think you turn into a leopard, I turn into a panther, and we always end up together?"

Alec shifted uncomfortably. "Changed my mind," He grunted. "Don't wanna talk about it."

"That's what I thought," She rolled her eyes. "Instead, let's talk about how you're avoiding me, and how that ends today."

"Max," He sighed, but she crossed the room quickly, and her hand curled around his forearm, at what had once had been a mark of teeth, and now was a sleeve of runes.

"We're in this together," She frowned up at him. And her face fell. "I don't… know if I can do this alone, Alec." And Alec recognized for the first time, that maybe he needed to take care of her, too.

He sighed again and he broke away from her grasp. So she almost jumped in surprise when his arms descended around her shoulders and he leaned in, his forehead just resting against hers.

"Good thing you're not alone, then."


	9. N

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! Parallax, quirkys, Willow, DM-Luvah, Tamshii Princess (;P), Sara aka Rhasa, Spinx, src, Evie, T, CherryWolf, wrenbailey, Celtergirl, Michelle, chance, midnightjen, Mahine, p3karen, Chica, Tori-Kit, vancity, and, naturally, Nic. I don't think I've ever had such a consensus between reviewers before; I got 6 'weirds', 1 'insane' and a couple of 'wows'. If you guys thought M was weird, wait till you get to O. :P

* * *

N is for Night

Rated M

* * *

Alec, like Ben before him, was a night model. Thankfully, instead of using the covering darkness to track frightened middle-aged men through a forest, generally he just lazed about, had a lot of sex, or tagged along whenever Max burst into his apartment at all hours with her demands for his help. So, it kind of surprised him when-

"What do you mean, you didn't know I had shark DNA?" He made a face. "You've known me for a year, and you haven't noticed the fact that I'm always available when you bust through my door at two or three in the morning?"

Max blushed harder. "It's never come up," She defended, shrinking further into herself.

"Well, what about your brother, then? I mean, you hafta have realized-"

Max's face fell and Alec's words trailed off. "Never mind," He hastily amended.

But he was right and they both knew it. Back at Manticore, night had been prime time for Ben's stories and shadow puppets. It'd also been the best time for him to sneak away to his High Place. Guess she'd just never made the connection before.

Part of it (she assumed) is that she was just so blinded by assumptions. She'd just _assumed_ that Alec slept… a little… In between his frequent drinking, midnight romps, and constantly helping her out, she'd assumed he'd gotten some sleep in there… _somewhere_…

And just magically remained looking fresh for work the next day? Okay, she was an idiot, he totally had shark DNA and she'd just never wasted enough brain power on it, on him, to make the connection.

It was currently four in the morning. They'd just come back from swiping a rather large, shiny, multi-carat ring. It was the fourth heist in three days, and Max had told Alec in rather commanding tones to go home and get some sleep, because, undoubtedly, he was tired. Logan, who'd run mission control for them all three nights, and was currently dredging up some coffee so he'd be able to survive the drive home, was exhausted, lookin' more like a zombie than a human… so Max had thought for sure that Alec…

Well, instead of stretching, yawning, or proclaiming that he was beat, to her surprise, after her (in her mind, kindly, in his, bitchy) suggestion, he'd turned and looked at her and asked, "What, are you stupid?" with a look to back it up; a look that said, clearly, not only was she the type that, as a child, would have eaten paste, she was one of the rare few that would have gone back for seconds. "Sleep? How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

Which is how this whole embarrassing conversation had gotten started.

"Okay," She grumped, leaning against her desk, arms crossed defensively under her breasts. "So you have shark DNA. My bad."

"Some friend," He huffed in response. "And some transgenic, too. Aren't you supposed to be observant-"

"Okay, I get it! I'm really frickin' blind!"

"Well, we knew that already," Alec scoffed. "I mean, why else would you be attracted to-"

She pushed herself out of her lean, her hands dropping to fist in readiness at her sides. "You so don't even want to finish that sentence."

"Would it be masochistic if I told you that I really, really do?"

"Yes," She scowled.

"Won't say it then," He shrugged, hand digging into his pocket to finger the necklace that had 'somehow' made its way in while they swiping the multi-carat monstrosity that had once belonged to some actress or some princess of Monaco or something. Maybe it was both, princess and actress, they didn't know, just knew that that ring was gonna do a lot more good on the black market, funding T.C., than it would tourin' the countryside on some jewelry exposition, the amassed wealth spitting in the eyes of the poor and burnt out that couldn't even afford to come see it.

Max was eyeing him, though, a little distrustfully. "What's in your pocket?"

"Nothin," He hedged, pulling his hand free quickly.

"God, Alec, I told you to leave the necklace alone!"

"But I needed it," He whined.

"Why? To woo some tramp that you could talk into bed anyway?" 'Cuz god knows he always went for the easiest women available; either that or he had some magic ability to talk any girl he wanted into his bed. No, more likely he just had a thing for ho-bags. After all, Max told herself, he'd never tried to talk **_her_** into his bed (not that she wanted to blip on Alec's female/prey radar… and not that he'd ever succeed if he tried, either).

"No," He scowled. "I just don't see why we always gotta make off with only one item per heist! We'll be able to find a buyer for the necklace, no problem, and it'll just be more cash dough for T.C."

She only ever made off with one item per job because Logan didn't even want her to do that much, and she walked around for days nearly crippled by the burden of guilt he lumped upon her back. "Just don't tell Logan, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever. Like I'd do that anyway. Did _you_ tell Captain Righteous what we were hitting the museum up for?" Why'd he even ask (because he was a snarky bastard), he already knew the answer. Logan wouldn't have helped them if he'd known what they were going after. And if they _had_ mentioned the ring to him, not only would he NOT have helped them, even worse, he'd probably have gone into some long spiel about how it was an important part of American Heritage or Monte Carlo Heritage or thrown in some other Fascinating Tidbit about its Utter Significance or blah, blah, blah. Don't get him wrong, Alec liked the guy and all, but he'd never before in his life met anyone so brimming with useless, uninteresting facts, and that was saying a lot considering some of the classes he'd suffered through at Manticore.

"Of course I didn't tell him," She scowled. "He doesn't ask, I don't tell." It had its shortcomings, but it was a fairly good policy.

"I wanna see it again," Alec frowned at her, leaning in suddenly.

"No," Max scowled, straightening, as if standing tall could somehow protect her from him when she barely cleared his shoulder. "You'll probably go try and pawn it to fund your hookers and your beer and God knows what else."

"Please," He sniffed. "Give me some credit, I wouldn't leave T.C. high n' dry like that." Max was opening her mouth, so wasn't expecting it when Alec suddenly lunged for her, his arm clasping her close, tight, his free hand digging into her dark pants to snag twelve carats worth of diamond. She struggled, but it was like trying to break away from an encasement of stone; he barely even budged.

He released her, whistling low as he drew the ring from her pocket. "Man, how'd she even lift her hand?"

"It's not that big, stupid," Max frowned, the sparkle of the ring distracting her from her annoyance, and she leaned in, admiring the flawless cut of the very large diamond.

"Put it on," He suddenly demanded, looking at her.

"What?! No!"

"Just do it," He scowled, "I wanna see what it looks like on. Probably eats the whole knuckle."

Max frowned down at the ring, chewing her lip in thought. A small, secret, girly part of her really did want to try the ring on, just for a moment. The rest of her would never admit to it in front of Alec. "We're selling it, not taking it out for a stroll."

"Max,"

"I said no!"

A small skirmish broke out, Alec trying to grab at her hand, Max kicking at him, hard, in retaliation, so they didn't even hear the door open. They did hear the slight choking noises that Logan started to make when he came in to find Alec on one knee, Max's hand in his, a diamond ring halfway up her finger.

Alec's face lit in glee even as Max started stammering something nonsensical, her face red. Excuses were forgotten as Logan got a good look at the rather large diamond that he knew Alec could in no way afford.

His face practically drained of color.

"Please, please tell me that you didn't steal the engagement ring Prince Ranier gave to Grace Kelly from the jewelry exhibition at the Seattle Art Museum."

Max and Alec exchanged a long glance. Alec finally released her hand, standing slowly. Max refused to look into Logan's disappointed, incredulous eyes. He waited for a moment, glaring back and forth between the two, but no answer was forthcomming. And they didn't have to say anything, anyway, their brooding silence, averted eyes, was answer enough. The rock felt large and conspicous, clinging to her knuckle, heavy as the mountain of guilt she was suddenly being crushed under.

"God," Alec hissed, as they rappelled down from the ceiling. "Who ever heard of a burglar returning to the scene of the crime; to return the merchandise no less?!"

"Shut up," Max scowled. Yellow police tape was all over the area, security already knew the damn thing was missing. "Someone will be back any minute."

He ignored her, his annoyed voice wafting down from above. "Why couldn't you tell him that feeding babies is more important than amusing the wealthy?"

She looped off the rope, halting her descent near the glass display case. "I _said_, shut up, Alec."

"Fine," He grumbled, slowing to a stop next to her, and she'd have bet money he swung into her on purpose. "But I'm keeping the necklace and that's final. I refuse to let tonight be a total bust,"

God, he was too perky, too annoying, considering it was after five in the morning. She really did kind of feel like an idiot for not noticing the whole shark thing. As they went their separate ways for the day, after successfully returning the ring, Max found herself vaguely wondering how Alec spent his nights. She was usually bored out of her mind, thinking, brooding, staring at a wall in the darkness of her bedroom...

Actually, on second thought, never mind. She _knew_ how he spent his nights; downing cheap beer, makin' it with floozies-

"Starin' at a wall, pretending to watch bad late night TV," He supplied when she knocked on his door that night. "Why? You need me to go on another job with you? I thought we made enough money off the necklace." Despite the whiny tones at the end, he sounded surprisingly okay with the potential usurpation of his night. Maybe he got just as bored as she did; maybe that was why he always helped out despite his half-hearted complaints.

"No, no jobs." Max shifted from one foot to the other.

He eyed her for a long moment, standing out in the hallway, unable to shove down her pride and just come out and ask… He rolled his eyes, widening the door, stepping out of the way, "You coming in or not?"

Max hogged his couch, his beer, his blanket, his popcorn, _and**, **_even_ worse_, the remote. Despite the annoyance he still managed to make small talk for most of the night as they whittled away hours that normally seemed long, but felt surprisingly short when they were spent together.

"Any missions tomorrow night?" He asked, almost hopefully, as she was leaving in the morning.

He got his answer when she showed up at a quarter to midnight with a six pack of beer and some playing cards.

Having someone to talk to and be entertained by was a novelty. She'd spent almost eight years of her life pacing her room, staring at a wall, dreading the setting of the sun, the sleeping of humanity, the knowledge that she was alone and different and anyone that could understand was either her enemy, stuck in Manticore, or her family, scattered to the four corners of the continent. The isolation, the long hours of the night when you cannot sleep, when all you can do is try to distract yourself from the feeling of your life slowly passing you by… His normally grating voice was a welcome reprieve from the silence.

He went to bed around four in the morning, for his two hours of downtime, and she made the trek back to her own apartment, for her own few hours of sleep.

Really, though, it was easier to take his bed, wasn't it? After all night of hanging out, it was too much work to trudge all the way across T.C. back to her own place, wasn't it? At least, that was what she told herself almost a week later as she kicked him, literally, out of his bed, ignoring his yelp as he hit the floorboards. He yanked the covers from her body and grumbled all the way to the couch, but he let her stay, and she wondered why. Why he let her butt in, why she always came over. And it was always his place, never hers. Her space was her space… and his space was her space, and he never questioned it, just accepted her gradual and complete take over of his nights with that typical calm of his.

T.V. grew old. Cards grew old. Drinking, especially when heaviness refused to seize the mind, grew old. Mindless conversation grew old. Thoughtful conversation grew old. She ached for something new, something to entertain her. A night of boredom, after over a month of hanging out together, a month of nights unwasted, was no longer an option for her.

"What else do you do at night?" She was lying on his sofa, on her stomach, fingertips trailing the ground, moving through rough carpeting.

"What do you think?"

She froze, looking back over her shoulder, catching him in his stare, and for the first time, despite all the teasing he normally did, she could feel, really **_feel_** herself on his radar, could feel him lock on, his gaze sweeping up her legs, lingering on her curves, caressing her back, finally connecting with her eyes. Maybe it was because he hadn't gotten some in a while, spending all his nights with her. Maybe it was because she was the only one around. Maybe it was because, for one brief moment, they were both achingly aware that he was a man, and she was a woman, and they were very much alone. She waited, tense and wary and a little annoyed, wondering if he'd make his first ever real attempt at cajoling her into his bed.

But he relaxed and she ignored the odd, feminine disappointment. "I go out and play pool until the bars close, or I steal stuff, or meet with my contacts. What do you want to do?"

She sat up, but the strange undercurrent remained within her, that Alec, just for a moment, had seen her as a sexual creature, as more than the bitchy leader that saved his ass, that he was beholden to. She shrugged tenseness, unhappiness, out of her shoulders. "Pool sounds good. I can totally kick your ass at pool."

"No one likes a show off, Max," He threw her words from so long ago back in her face, but, typically, she ignored him. He opened the door for her and she pretended not to notice, because she didn't think he did, either.

He noticed when she leaned over the pool table, taking a long moment to line up her shot, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Hurry up, already," he grumped, doing his best to look away from the lines of her legs, the curve of her hips, her teeth tugging at her lower lip in concentration.

Max was not supposed to blip on his radar.

He could admit she was attractive in a remote sort of way, like a glacier, beautiful but cold. She could even be hot when she was fiery, and he was the first to admit that when she pulled the stick out of her ass, she was actually kind of amusing... but he wasn't supposed to actually _want_ her. But night time was the longest part of his day, and she had been filling it lately, filling his mind too, especially considering how long it'd been since he'd gotten laid, and… She was going to run the table if he didn't find a way to stop her.

"Fifty bucks says you miss this shot, Maxie," He leaned next to her, eyeing her angle.

"Please," She rolled her eyes, and sunk the nine ball easily. She moved to the cue and he followed.

"Double or nothing,"

"Makin' it too easy, Alec," Another crack, as stick connected with ball, connected with the next, spun into the corner pocket. He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing.

She leaned down, eyeing the next shot, and almost jumped as a warm and solid hand slid across skin, where a traitorous shirt had ridden up and treacherous jeans had gaped out.

"Maybe we should make it more interesting, then."

"Take your hand off me, or I'll break it off." She pretended it didn't affect her, lined up the shot. Bit her lip as he leaned in, his hand slid further, curled around her hip, and nerve endings crackled to life.

"Let's make it triple. Hundred and fifty if you make it."

"Do you want me to take all your money?" She snapped, moody and jumpy, beginning to doubt her ability to see clearly with his breath against her ear, much less sink the ball.

"Hey guys,"

Max jerked up, her cue stick hit the cue ball, and it skittered off sideways, hitting nothing, losing her accrued winnings. "Sketchy," She said wide-eyed, as Alec pulled away slowly, a trifle smug that his wallet was safe. "What are you doing here?"

"It's only midnight," Sketchy made a face, oblivious to something thick in the air. "Where have you guys been lately? Hardly see you around anymore."

Where had they been? Together for over a month, from sunset to sunrise, hardly aware of a world outside of each other. Max swallowed as she realized. Alec shrugged and lined up his shot and proceeded to run the table. He set up the next game with Sketchy and Max pretended interest in the one-sided match so she wouldn't have to see O.C.'s weighing eyes and her arched eyebrow or heed the soft comment that held a hint of accusation. "You n' Hot Boy lookin' awfully cozy..."

"We hang out," Max defended, keeping her eye on the ball and not on Alec's lean hips. "Doesn't mean nothin'."

"Mmhmm."

O.C.'s disbelief stuck with her for the rest of the week and the realization was sudden, annoying, and a whole hell of a lot surprising.

She couldn't tell you the exact moment that she _wanted_to be a target upon Alec's radar, but there it was, staring her in the face like a dirty little secret that promised a whole lot of fun. A months of nights must have brought it on gradually, and as time continued to pass, to her annoyance, the want only grew stronger, more overpowering. But Alec kept chugging on, oblivious, like they were the best of wise-cracking frenemies.

She did her best to ignore her changing mental state. Kept their days professional and their nights friendly. And despite her sudden development of bad taste (so, so bad) she could not separate from him, could not kick him from her nights and hope for a return of sanity. An evening alone was so much worse than lusting after Alec could ever be, or so she told herself.

Sometimes they included Sketchy and O.C., and sometimes even Asha, on the nights they ventured past Alec's doorstep. Sometimes they hit up the bars by themselves. Sometimes they had genuine T.C. stuff to take care of. Sometimes he took her with him to meet his contacts, most of whom were less than reputable, and Max would rather be with him on those nights anyway. For the most part, they stayed in and he treated her the same, throwing out his sexist remarks, the occasional wise-crack about her ass, the dirty innuendos that he didn't really mean... Because he _didn't_ really mean them, not really, not in the same way that he meant it when he offered that redhead a drink, smiling slowly, his eyes intent, locked on to his prey.

Until her hand caught him across the back of his head. "You are not taking her home, we're hanging out tonight."

The redhead gaped.

"Max," He whined. "We_ always_ hang out. Can't you let me chill with a female every once in a while?"

"I am a female!"

He huffed in annoyance. "I mean a _real_ female."

The redhead was bemused, looking back and forth between them. "Is this your sister?" She interrupted.

"No," They both scowled, turning to look at her, and hot or not, maybe he was too strange to be goin' home with. The girl slunk off and left them to it, whatever _it_ was.

"This is it," Alec moaned, turning to watch her sashay away, "A life of celibacy, all because you realized I have shark DNA."

"Shut up," She scowled, because she didn't really know what else to say. Hey, you big idiot, will you notice me, please? But even if he did notice her, what then? Would she really…

But it didn't matter, because even in those those few rare moments that he did realize she was a woman, he shoved down the reaction quickly.

It'd been over three months since he'd revealed his owlish practices to her, since she'd started hijacking his nights for her own amusement. It was almost cozy and a little domestic, them in what passed for their pajamas, watching a movie, on separate ends of the couch, her feet resting in his lap, His hand had absentmindedly slipped past her ankle, into loose canvas drawstring pants, and long fingers kneaded at her calf. She hadn't noticed until he fell still, his eyes engrossed by the screen, and she heard her distracted voice, a little breathy, a little relaxed and loose, "Don't stop,"

He froze, something male in him rearing up and taking notice, and he swung his head to look at her. He grinned slowly, evilly, as she looked back at him, realizing how wrong a pervy old goat like Alec would take that, and blushed.

"Shut up," She warned before he could start. He grinned, leaning towards her, some latent skill making it easy for him to twist and end up sitting between her calves, his hand sliding further up, grasping the underside of her knee.

"Didn't say anything," His face was angelic, but his eyes were glinting in wickedness. She waited for it, and it came soon enough, still in that angelic guise, "So, does Logan know you spend our nights together telling me not to stop?"

She tried to kick at him, but his grasp was firm, drawing her leg with him as he pounced, pressing her knee into her chest before she could get a good blow in, trapping her beneath him, intimately against him.

"Come on, Maxie, say it again," He wiggled slightly against her, teasing, as her head dropped back into cushions.

"I hate you," She grumbled.

"No, no, no," He replied imperiously. "It was breathier, started with a 'don't' and ended with a 'stop,'" It was the teasing light in his eyes that really got to her. Even now, on top of her, pressed against her, and he was still only joking; still didn't register her as anything but his daytime commander, his night time friend. She was a girl, dammit. And, as a girl, she knew how to shut him up.

She arched upwards, her eyes went hooded and a little dark, and Alec watched, suddenly frozen, fascinated, as moist lips parted and a breathy, "_Don't stop_," tumbled out once more. He reared away as if burned, his hand coming out of her pant leg quickly. Not exactly a favorable reaction. She played it off, sitting up with a slow smile (what the hell, she couldn't be **_flirting_** with him, could she?) and a wicked glance, "I win."

He cleared his throat, nodding in agreement, and nothing else was said. He didn't touch her the rest of the night.

The next day, he snapped at her during a meeting and glared at almost everything that moved. Annoyed as she was, she considered not going over to his place that night, but ultimately decided she had to, because when he wasn't being aggravated with everything that crossed his path, he was looking like a man on the prowl, his eyes hunting and tracking and weighing every female in Command. Couldn't very well go and let him do something stupid, like sleep with someone that they worked with.

Someone that wasn't her.

When had her priorities gotten so screwed up?

He didn't answer her knock, but the door was unlocked, and she found him hiding in his room, head under his pillow.

"What's wrong with you?" She scowled.

Something muffled and despairing was flung back.

"What?"

"I said, I'm really frickin' horny," He pulled the pillow from his head, turning to glare at her over his shoulder. "God, I almost jumped _you_ last night, if you can believe it,"

"Well, why didn't you?" She heard herself ask.

He blinked. Then snorted, rolling his eyes and looking away, and she'd never felt so affronted in her entire life. "Yeah, very funny, Max. Why would I do that?"

Her pride couldn't keep the words in her mouth. "In case you didn't notice, you big idiot, I've been kind of throwing myself at you," She snapped.

"But we…" He blinked once, twice, and he looked back at her, gaping like a moron. "We're not like that,"

She felt like an idiot. A big, stupid, paste-eating idiot. She was never hanging out with him again. Hell, she was never _talking_ to him again. If he wasn't such a damn good leader, she'd kick him out of T.C. and issue standing orders for him to be shot on sight. She stomped out of his bedroom, and she felt his eyes following her, narrowed in thought. She didn't know if she'd ever live down the humiliation.

But the next day it was like nothing had changed. He didn't mention it, so she didn't know why should have to either. Actually, even though he (thankfully) didn't bring it up, it was still a little odd; there was a strange vibrating intensity underlying his casual avoidance of the subject. It kind of confused her, but then he asked if she was comin' over, so maybe they could go back to the way it was before she'd gotten all bad-tastey and big-stupid-mouthey…

But he wasn't wearing a shirt when he came to the door. And she felt something warm as his eyes dipped and that slow smirk dawned, his gaze glancing across her jeans, back up to the swell of her breasts, and the red material stretched taut beneath her leather jacket.

"Hey," He said with a certain kind of wicked grin that she'd seen many times before, just never directed at her.

She hesitated only a moment before she brushed past him. "Hey," This, so soon after his declaration of his need for female companionship and the weirdness of the night before, should be making her suspicious, but he'd already made it pretty clear that she wasn't fucking material. Her voice was breezy as she pulled the jacket from her body, the hint of annoyance beneath her put upon airs making him smile. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah sure." He paused as he turned and took her in, corner of his mouth lifting slowly as his eyes slid down the length of her back. "You got a date with Logan tonight?"

Right, like 'date' was even in their vocabulary anymore. "No, why?"

"What's with the clothes?" The door shut with a kind of finality, a low thrum, a vibration something like a fly might make as it lands in a carefully constructed web, and she turned to look at him.

"What do you mean? They're just clothes, Alec." Not even particularly nice clothes. Jeans and a tanktop, whoopdidoo. But his eyes were devouring her, like a starving man kept too long from the buffet line, and she realized the neck line of the red shirt was a bit low, a bit reckless, the jeans maybe a little too broken in, just the right degree of formfitting... and the push up bra might not have been strictly necessary. But still… It's not like she was _throwing_ herself at him. Again. Wasn't _trying_ to get a reaction from him. Again. _She_ wasn't a masochist.

And pigs knew how to fly, and White was going to dance the meringue with Mole later, and...

He was advancing on her, and she felt that sudden thrill, that sudden chill, that the rabbit must feel when it meets the eyes of the wolf. She didn't like it. She wanted him to notice her, but she didn't want to be the next meaningless notch on his bedpost, either... So, like always, after going for the reaction, she backed down quickly, turning her back and walking away.

But he caught her, and he pulled her in, back, against lean muscle and hard lines. Her head fell backwards, into his shoulder, and all the strength in the world couldn't keep her eyes from falling shut, her breath from quickening. His breathing was steady, even, across the side of her face and her name, "Max," in those low tones, drew a slow shudder from the depths of her body. Fingertips glanced across the line of her jaw, down the front of her throat, and there was only a moment's hesitation before his palm flattened and slid, solid, down the warm skin of her chest, slipped beneath a red hemline, and grasped surely at her breast. She gasped, arching back into him, and his breath was losing some of that control as it danced across the side of her face. She wanted… She needed…

More than this.

She ripped away, skin howling from contact deprivation, and whirled to face him. "Maybe I should go," Her voice was shaky.

His was steady, cajoling, soothing even. "Stay,"

"I need to be up early," She was backing away, backing away in the wrong direction, towards the bedroom, so she made herself stop, her movements jerky.

He was nothing but velvety smooth as he took a sinuous step forward. "I'll wake you up,"

Oh Lord, she'd finally gotten what she wanted, not only was she on "The Radar," she was the _only_ thing on the radar, and he was locked on, going in for the kill.

"I think Logan said something about needing me tonight,"

His head hung, and he was still advancing, green eyes vivid and only on her. "_I_ need you tonight,"

How she wasn't a mass of goo upon the floor was beyond her. She went for distraction instead of needy writhing, thinking it was probably more dignified. "Maybe we should go eat something." She squeaked. "Are you hungry?"

"_Yes_,"

That hiss of air past sinful lips almost undid her. Actually, it must have, because he was before her, and his arm looped around her waist as she sagged, gelatinous legs unable to support the weight of a body that felt more like liquid fire than solid flesh.

He took his time with her, laid her out on the bed, devouring every inch of skin as it was revealed to him, little pieces stolen away with kisses and nips and long, languid licks, until there was nothing left of her, because it was all his, every inch marked and claimed and given over. And he did it all with that slow intensity, that absolute control, that unhurried grace, that made her tremble, made her want to cry out and beg. And she probably did because he pulled away, giving her enough time to shimmy quickly out of her underwear, all that remained, and then he was back over her and he was sliding into her, and she didn't know if she'd survive the night of a sweet agony that seemed unending. Always, she thought, here it is, this is it, but he would pull away, or change his angle, and the surge would subside slightly, and he'd build her back up, to greater heights, until she knew she was begging, her voice loud and frantic and breathy, begging for something, for release, for him, for him to stop, for him to never stop, for some nameless, perfect thing that only he could provide. When begging was beyond her capabilities, it was just his name, over and over, crashing through the walls, through him, finally destroying that perfect grasp of control of his, finally dropping him to his forearms with a pained grunt as he forgot everything but warmth and wetness and filling her up and drowning in her.

Max woke to the sound of a beating heart, to languid limbs, and a hand hooked under her knee. To breath against her hair and an arm around her back. To hazel eyes, no longer dark, and a solemn gaze.

"It's day," He said unnecessarily. Max's eyes widened and her gaze shot to the alarm clock on his night stand.

"Crap!" She scrambled from the bed. She was supposed to meet with Clemente in less than twenty minutes. He sat up a little more slowly. He thought she was running away, she could tell, but she didn't have time to correct his faulty notion. "Where the hell is my underwear?" She muttered instead. Everything he had removed from her had been carefully folded and placed on the chair in the corner with a precision that, at the time, had made her shake in anticipation, made her want to strangle him. In retrospect, his careful control surpassed the erotic and... She jerked herself away from the thought; she really needed to get dressed before her traitorous body hurt her relations with Seattle P.D.. She continued to look around in annoyance before turning to glare at Alec, still lounging in bed. He arched an eyebrow. The one item she had removed had been discarded of a little more haphazardly, but he chalked that up to far too long without a little TLC. He pointed helpfully, and she snatched the panties from where they hung, undignified, on the closet doorknob, and pulled them on quickly.

"We gonna talk about this?" He asked as she was hopping into her pants.

"Tonight," She didn't even look up as she zipped her jeans.

He rolled his eyes and flopped back into the mattress. He thought this was it, that she'd avoid him, that it was back to nights that he hadn't realized were empty until they'd started hanging out.

Which is maybe why she caught him leaning next to that stupid bimbo after her meeting with Clemente, smiling disarmingly. She'd caught his elbow, whirling him around, and before he could sidestep the punch he thought was surely coming, her lips had smashed over his before the entirety of Command.

If he thought she was another notch, she'd soon disabuse him of the notion. Max played for keeps, and sooner or later, Alec would get it through his thick skull that his night belonged to her.


	10. OP

A/N: For those of you that never visited my LJ, this is a crash course for you on how FULL OF CRACK I am! YAAAAAY!

* * *

O is for Oz

Rated T

* * *

"Hello?" She called into the apartment. When nobody called back, Max frowned, pulling the gloves from her fingers, stuffing them into her back pocket. She knew they were here, she could hear them talking. She followed their voices into the living room, disgruntled by their blatant act of ignoring.

"No, no, no," Alec was saying, leaning forward in the old, red armchair. "You got it all wrong."

"Joshua _never_ wrong," Joshua was saying stubbornly back, sitting right across from him in a matching green.

"_Max_ is the one that-"

"Hey guys, what's going on?" Max glared suspiciously between the two. They both turned to look at her in surprise, drawn unexpectedly out of their disagreement. They leaned out of their earnest positions, Alec looking disgruntled at the interruption, Joshua smiling, happy to see her.

"Just talkin'." Alec shrugged, his expression relaxing.

Her head cocked to the side. "About what?" 'Cuz she'd heard her name and now she wanted to know.

"Books," Joshua said, with a smile, but Alec was strangely silent.

Max pretended surprise, turning on Alec, her eyes wide. "You know how to _read_?"

"Very funny, Max." Alec scowled, standing abruptly, walking away. Max frowned in surprise, then rolled her eyes. Whatever.

"Max not very good at joking." Joshua said plaintively when she turned to look at him.

"It's not my fault he's sensitive." Max shrugged.

"Max _never_ nice to Alec." Joshua frowned, and then he stood too, walking to the bookshelf, and what the hell? Ugh, she never should have let Joshua share an apartment with Alec. Her big friend was obviously being corrupted by her annoyingly necessary and indispensable Second in Command. That or he was right and she was usually a bitch to Alec, despite the fact that they were kind of supposed to be friends now...

Max sighed.

Rather than apologize (to Josh, never to Alec) Max followed, glancing down, and tried to smooth it over with the transhuman, leaning into the bookshelf next to him. "What book you talkin' about?"

"Just book," Joshua shrugged, his eyes scanning the worn bindings.

"Didn't even know Alec liked books," Max glanced away.

Joshua paused, turning to look at her, and his eyes glinted in amusement. "No boob tube."

Ahhh, that explains it. T.C. wasn't exactly known for its cable hook-ups. Or water hook-ups. Or electricity, for that matter. Or- She shook her head out of the thoughts. She could fill a page with all the stuff that T.C. did not have. More than one. She did that all day long, actually, so why think about it now?

"What do _I_ have to do with books?" Max questioned, 'cuz she knows that she heard her name, from Alec's lips no less, and that couldn't be a good thing, and Josh should just tell her now before the curiosity destroyed her (and possibly Alec by default).

"Comparison," Joshua smiled. "Joshua says that Max is Dorothy."

Alec's voice rang out from the other room. "She's the Wicked B-"

"Alec thinks that Max is the Wicked Witch." Joshua talked over Alec.

"The what?" She glared. She had no idea what the hell they were talking about, but it didn't sound good at all.

"From book," Joshua turned back to the bookshelf, pulling off a small book in an orange binding. He flipped through the pages for a moment before turning and smiling, tapping her gently on the head with it. She drew away frowning, and he extended it out to her, smiling. "You read."

Max sighed, her voice gentle. "Listen, Joshua, I'm busy and-"

His voice brooked no argument. "You read."

Max sighed again, taking it from him, glancing across the worn cover. Slim fingers danced across fanciful characters, faded by time. "Frank Baum? What is this, a kid's book?" Ooooh, she was so making fun of Alec. So he could read, but he couldn't read past a fifth grade level?

"I heard that!" Alec's annoyed voice came from the other room.

"I didn't say anything!" She shouted back, turning to scowl at the open doorway. "And if you're just going to sit in there and eavesdrop, you might as well come back in here." She added in a mutter, under her breath, "You big baby."

Alec lounged in the doorway, his arms folding across his chest. "Now, I _know_ I heard that."

Her eyes glanced across his bare feet and the red sweats, the thin grey t-shirt and the mussed hair. "Plannin' on comin' into work anytime today, Pretty Boy?"

"It's Sunday," Alec frowned. Before she could open her mouth, he continued. "Max, you gotta let me have at least one day off. I'm no good to you if I can't decide between napping on the floor of Command or tearing out my hair in frustration. How am I supposed to make executive decisions-"

"Not my problem."

Alec rolled his eyes, pushing out of his lean. "God, you're worse than the trainers at Manticore." He stomped off, back to his room, grumbling under his breath. "Even _they _let us have _some_ days to ourselves."

"Are you getting dressed?" She called.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm goin'."

Max smiled, turning to look at Josh, who was frowning disapprovingly at her. "What?"

Joshua shrugged and backed down, apparently lacking the courage to tell her whatever it was he was _really_ thinking. She walked back to the front hallway, shoved the orange book into her Jam Pony pack, still abandoned by the door, and waited impatiently for Alec to get his butt in a move-on. She'd only left Command and crossed T.C. to Josh and Alec's shared apartment to come and get him. He was eating precious hours of daylight; they needed to be on call in case something happened, not arguing literature.

Alec appeared in the entrance, surly, and she had a feeling it was gonna be one of _those_ days; one of the ones in which he didn't much talk to her. The only thing worse than those days were the ones in which he was in a _good_ mood, and wouldn't _stop_ talking to her.

When they got there, Command was dead.

"Uhhh, Max? Where's all the action?"

Max shrugged. "Most people are taking the day off."

"Are you kidding me?!" Alec exploded.

Max shrugged, again. "Someone's got to man the fort. I'll be in my office if you need me." She walked off, ignoring Alec's evil stare boring into her back. She refused to feel bad for dragging him out on a lazy Sunday afternoon… or for being kinda bitchy to him. Maybe he did deserve a break, maybe she did too, but who else was gonna do it if they weren't here? The place was practically empty.

Alec glared around at the few people in the command center. "Who wants to make me coffee?" It's not that he was bossy or a lazy jerk, it's just that everyone was always more than willing to help him out anyway. It was kind of a 'thank you' for being the buffer between Max and everyone else.

Max, in her office, tossed her pack onto her desk, sinking into her chair, which squeaked loudly in protest. The thing would probably give out one day, old piece of crap that it was. Here's hopin' Alec wasn't in the room when it did because she'd probably never hear the end of it if she fell on her ass in front of him.

Maybe it wasn't really busy, maybe Alec's annoyance was well founded, but Max loved Sundays at Command. Usually things were fairly quiet and she could just kind of hide in her office. If a call came in for a rescue, here she would be, but otherwise… She leaned forward, opening her pack and pulling some folders out. Eyes Only dossiers, a few inventory files, a couple of letters she was composing to Seattle PD… Joshua's book slid out as well, and she frowned, glancing at it.

Logan's files were always monotonous, most of it was stuff he'd verbally go over with her anyway. Really, she was saving herself some boredom and inattentiveness later by not reading them. The inventory files… she was so tired of going over those, just looking at them made her feel suddenly sleepy… The letters… Maybe she should make Alec do that. Annoying as he was, he had a quick wit and a way with words and maybe he would be better suited. He usually said her letters were 'terse', which they both knew was just a nice way of saying 'bitchy.'

Which left Joshua's little book. The one that he and Alec had been arguin' about. She picked it up, glancing in the front cover. It was relatively thin, but holy crap, the little novel had thirteen sequels? Jeez.

"What are you doing?"

Max snapped the book shut, glancing up at Logan. "Hey." When had he gotten here? Probably when she was out getting Alec. Maybe someone had told him where she'd gone, and maybe that was why he had those little frown lines between his brows.

Whatever his deal was, he frowned at the book in her hands. "Have you looked at those files I gave you?"

"Not yet," She admitted.

"Max, I gave you those files a _week_ ago."

"I'll read them eventually," She lied.

"That's what you said last time," Logan frowned.

"Well, this time I mean it." She tossed the book on the desk.

"Max, if you don't want to help me out, just say so."

"God, did I _say_ that, Logan?" Max leaned back into her chair, glaring across the room at him and ignoring the pained creak of her chair. "I don't mind helping you out, but reading stuff you're just gonna go over with me anyway kind of defeats the purpose, don't you think?"

"I only go over it with you because I know you don't read the files," Logan said, his face unhappy and bland all at once. He stepped forward, his exoskeleton whirring away. Logan never noticed it. Max pretended that she didn't hear it, but it was always there, in the background. He leaned forward over her desk, picking up the little orange book that Joshua had forced upon her. She started to protest, but locked it down.

"The Wonderful Wizard of Oz," Logan mused aloud, flipping through the pages. "Good book. I have memories of my mom reading this to me when I was a kid. It's an American classic."

Max's expression softened as Logan brought up his mom. But Logan, who had given up childhood a long time ago, and who knew everything about everything, started droning on. "They say that Frank Baum wrote it as a political commentary of the 1890's. The silver slippers in the story are actually supposed to represent-"

"I haven't read it yet," Max interjected, quickly. If Logan droned on about it, she might never find any interest in it, might only be able to hear Logan's monotone picking apart the text when she opened the worn binding, and she wanted to know who this Dorothy person that Josh had mentioned was (not to mention the Wicked Witch). What was so wrong with just taking something at face value once in a while, especially something like a children's book? Everyone always had to suck the magic out of everything.

Logan frowned, his monologue cut prematurely short and he glanced up at her in something akin to disgruntlement. "I was just going to-"

"Well, like I said, haven't read it yet… soooo…" Besides, Max, who had never had a childhood to begin with, much less one she could put behind her… Children's stories always held a peculiar sort of fascination for her. Logan shut the book abruptly, placing it back on the desk, looking suddenly annoyed.

"Please read those files," He nodded at her as he left. Not even a goodbye.

This is what the virus, and her lie, now in the open but just as damaging, had reduced them back to. He'd been so mad when he'd found out she hadn't been honest about her and Alec, that they weren't really together and she'd just been trying to push him away. He'd said that he thought they were stronger than that… Technically, they were back together, but she'd never felt so far apart. If they were alone in that car again, like they had been a few months ago, would he still say he loved her? Would she believe him? She felt so tired, so worn out… Sometimes she wondered if Logan's heart was still in it. She wasn't entirely sure hers was anymore, not when things had gotten so distant, and so chilly, between them.

You know what? Screw him (the thought only caused a teensy tinge of guilt). Today was a Sunday. It's not like she was taking down his big, scary, evil men today anyway. Why should she be sitting here moping, like usual. Whining about her lovelife, like usual. She just wanted one day to herself, was that too much to ask? She scowled, reaching forward over her desk, making a grab for that thin book.

Max flipped open the cover with a frown.

So it was a kid's book. It was still enchanting, she still lost herself in it, she still was totally gonna kick Alec's ass for comparing her to the Wicked Witch. Not that she found much similarity between herself and Dorothy, either. She didn't even _like_ dogs.

She was leaning back in her chair, feet up on her desk, completely engrossed in her book, so _close_ to the finish, when the door suddenly banged open and Alec's loud, annoyed voice washed over her. "HEY, Max! I've been frickin' calling you for ten minutes!"

But Max, who had totally been sucked in, was startled, and the old chair squeaked in sudden, unhappy protest as she reared backwards… And then there was a loud noise, and a sharp pain, and everything suddenly went black.

....

...She was swimming through darkness, searching for the light. In the distance, she heard a voice, a familiar voice, calling to her, but, stubbornly, she refused to go that way. She'd go her own damn way, thank you very much Logan Cale. She stomped (now she was walking?) off in a different direction, when the floor suddenly opened up below her, and she was falling, falling-

Wha- What happened?

Max opened groggy brown eyes slowly. God dammit, that stupid damn chair must have- But the chair, that she was still in, was on top of something else and Max bolted upright, pausing to look around in confusion. This was an office, but it wasn't _her_ office. It was all concrete and polished steel and… and… And that, that had most definitely _not_ been there.

_That _happened to Renfro's prone body upon the floor, underneath Max's rickety, broken chair. Oh god… Max had killed Renfro… again.

The door slammed open, and Max whirled in surprise, and a transgenic was lookin' back at her, just as surprised. He glanced down at Renfro's unmoving body and his eyes widened.

"Did you-"

"I just got here!" Max shook her hands in warding, backing up. There was no mistaking it, she was back in Manticore. Oh no. What if… What if everything that had happened… Alec, Joshua, the virus… what if it had all been a warped vision of Psy Ops, what if…

The transgenic stepped forward and grabbed her hand, and Max tried to wrench it away, but he held on tightly… and started shaking it enthusiastically.

"You saved us!" He beamed. "We're free!"

"I did?" Max questioned, being jerked around by his enthusiastic fist pumping. "We are?"

Other transgenics were filing in, looking at the evil director's body in a shocked kind of daze. Max searched their faces for Alec, hoping he would appear, hoping he could tell her what the hell was going on. Renfro couldn't die twice. Or could she? Max shook free of the transgenics grip and pressed a hand to her head, which pounded in pain just for a moment. This was all wrong.

"Max?" O.C. was pushing through the crowds.

"Cindy?" Max's hand dropped away from her head and she promptly forgot what she'd been thinking. "Cindy, what are you doing here? We gotta get you out of here!"

"What? Why?"

Max grabbed her friends arm, dragging her through the celebrating crowds (where did they all come from? And… were some of them _singing_?!) "If Manticore knows you know about them, they'll-"

Cindy shook free of her friend. "Boo, you trippin'. You took down Manticore. Renfro's dead."

Max's eyes widened. "But… I didn't mean to kill anybody. She was just in the way of my chair."

"What?" Cindy blinked. "Max, Renfro got shot, remember?"

"But-"

"Girl, haven't you realized you dreamin' yet?"

Max glanced around the stark hallway that was so familiar, exactly as she remembered it. She pressed her hand to a very solid, very believable wall. "I am?" She couldn't be. It was too real.

"Of course you are, why else would I be able to do this?" Cindy snapped her fingers, and suddenly they were outside, on the concrete training grounds, and Cindy was wearing a rather large, pink, poofy dress.

Max blinked, looking around. There were still transgenics around, talking excitedly amongst themselves. She still didn't see Alec. "But… it feels so real." She pinched herself for good measure, regretting it when her skin protested.

"Trust me," O.C. shook her head. "It may feel real, and it may look real, but it ain't."

"But if it's not real, and it feels real…" Max trailed off. You know what? This wasn't even her problem. She only cared about one thing. "How am I supposed to get home? I've got stuff to do."

The woman sighed. "You just gonna hafta wake up, boo."

"How do I do that when I'm not even sure I'm dreaming?" Max scowled, ignoring the fact that that sounded a lot like dream logic, especially considering the fact that Cindy had just poofed them to the outside and herself into a rather gaudy pink dress. With sparkles.

Cindy shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe you should go to Terminal City and ask the C.O."

"The C.O.?" Max blinked, and something in her mind protested loudly. She ignored it. "I guess. But how do I get there?"

"You could just follow this really obvious road that you didn't notice before."

Max glanced down at the really obvious brick road that she hadn't noticed before. "I guess," She grumbled. "If I have to."

"Girl, why you always bein' so difficult? You don't always have to be grumblin' you know."

"Since when did you start giving out advice?" Max huffed.

"Max, I always been your Good Fairy." Cindy smiled. "Just 'cuz you don't always listen don't mean I'm not talkin'."

_What do you want me tell you, Max? Maybe it's time that you accepted that you and Logan-_

Max pushed the memory down, looking into the distance, down the road, through the trees, to a large city and the recognizable Space Needle. "Well, I guess if I want to get out of here, I better get going." Max glanced at her longtime friend with a soft frown. "You coming?"

"Me? Girl, please. I got a hot hookup with the Good Witch of the South. Besides," Cindy pursed her lips in annoyance. "walkin' is so bad for my pores."

"I guess." Max frowned, and started taking off down the brick path that was a rather unnerving shade of red.

"Don't you need shoes?"

Max paused, glancing down at her bare feet, then glancing back at her friend, who was arching an eyebrow. She caught the combat boots that Cindy tossed at her easily.

"Got 'em off Renfro." Cindy said.

"That's disgusting!"

"Would you just put them on?! It's called story continuity. We need some parallels, okay?"

"Fine," Max huffed.

"And take this cat with you."

"What?! I don't even like cats!"

"Well, you dislike dogs more!" Cindy argued. "And you need something small and furry with you! Just pretend it's your feline side, going along for the ride in a different body or something."

Max stared distrustfully at the small black cat that was staring disdainfully back. Max didn't like the feline side of herself, either, so how was that supposed to help? To her ultimate annoyance, the cat stalked right up to her and pounced. She caught the thing, awkwardly, trying to keep a hold on her boots, and the cat clawed its way up her front, settling around her shoulders, an annoying tagger-alonger that she had a feeling she couldn't get rid of even if she tried. Even stooping down to put her stolen boots on didn't dislodge the damn thing. Ugh. Why was she even putting these things on? They clashed with her checkered blue dress something awful.

"Well, don't forget," Cindy shrugged. "Follow the brick road. And whatever you do, don't leave the path. It never ends well." With that, Cindy abruptly waved her hand, her pink dress was suddenly much more revealing, and the woman was clicking off in high heels to find the Good Witch of the South or whatever. Max sighed, turning, looking again down the path that was a particularly blood-curdling shade of crimson.

"Well, mini-Max," Max glanced at the cat, still curled around her shoulders. "Guess we should get goin'." Mini-Max just stared scornfully back. Maybe the cat disliked her as much as she did it. Huh. She'd never considered that before.

Max only got a short ways, maybe a mile or so, before there was a slight rustle off to the right. She paused, peering into the thick bushes. And almost shrieked, rearing away, when she realized someone was looking back.

"Do you think you could help me out?" The man, he looked so familiar, asked.

"Maybe," Max hedged, keeping firmly on the path. "Maybe if you come into the light."

"I would," He sighed from the shadows, "but I can't move."

Her curiosity got the best of her and she took a small step forward. The cat hissed in annoyance, but she ignored it. "Why can't you move?"

"I'm rusty," The man sighed again. Light glinted through the treetops, illuminating something below him, something shiny, just for a moment. "Some Bad Guys got a hold of a rather large pitcher of water and-"

Max took a tentative step off the path and the cat yowled in annoyance, right in her ear. "Shush," She said to it. "We're just going to help him. It's not like we're going to hang around and date him. What's the worst that could happen?" She stepped through the trees.

The man was standing next to a tree, and while he was tapping his fingers impatiently against the trunk, his legs were indeed, completely immobilized. Covered with a bulky tin aperture, every joint and bend was completely caked in rust, doubtless restricted from all movement.

"There's some oil over there," The Tin Man frowned through thin rimmed glasses, pointing helpfully to a stump just out of his own reach. Max did not exactly rush over there, she hmmed and hahed and dawdled a bit, but decided maybe helping him out was the right thing to do and maybe she had to. She told herself it wasn't _her_ fault he was stuck, after all, it had been Bad Guys that had gotten him stuck like that! ...But the feeling of responsibility gnawed at her… maybe if she had been there, she could have prevented this from happening, chased the Bad Guys off… or something. Whatever. She grabbed for the oil, stomping back over to him.

"Wait!" He cried, as she was about to put the oil on. "You have to read the instructions first." She glanced back at the stump, and there they were, the instructions. She slogged her way back through sticks and leaves, feeling like she was fighting a rising tide, back to the stump. Somehow she managed to make it over there and she picked up the folder, reading quickly through the material. But as she was reading, the rather annoying man started _telling_ her how to do it as well.

"Look," Max growled. "Do you want to tell me how to do it, or do you want me to read how to do it? Just pick one, okay?"

"Really," The Tin Man said with perfect candor, "I'd like to do it myself. I don't really trust anybody else with a mission this big. But, it is what it is, and I need your help."

She didn't read any more instructions. She straight up tossed the pot at him. "Fine!" She hissed, sounding remarkably like mini-Max on her shoulder. "Do it yourself!" The can of oil bounced off the man's chest, splattering down his front, greasing the joints of the tin around his legs.

"Hey, I can move!" He twisted experimentally. He glanced up, beaming, seemingly surprised that her unplanned maneuver had worked even better than his carefully crafted plan.

"Good for you," Max replied in boredom, already making her way back to the path.

"Wait! You're transgenic, right?"

She turned back to the blonde man, and it didn't even occur to her to ask him how he knew that. "Yeah, and?"

"Do you think you could stick around? I'd really like to totally exploit you and use you to do my bidding."

Max's mouth dropped open. "What did you just say?!"

"I can get you something out of it." He said, his eyes narrow and crafty. "You need something?"

Max thought of Alec, of Joshua, of Logan, of her friends and her family, all of them undoubtedly waiting for her to return. "Do you think you can get me home?"

"No, but if I act like I do, feeding you little tidbits every once in a few episodes, do you think that would be enough?"

"What?" She asked, confused.

"No, what about if I flirt with you then? How about that? Would that be enough to keep you around?"

"No!" Max hissed. "God, if you wanted to exploit me, don't you think you should have hid it a little bit better. Why be upfront about something like that?" She whirled on her heel, making to stomp off once more, but the annoying older man followed after her.

"Look, I'm sorry," The Tin Man sighed, not sounding particularly apologetic, sounding more like he thought that he was always right and she was unreasonable. "But it's not my fault. You see, I don't have a heart."

"Well, I coulda told you that," Max didn't even pause in her undignified stomp back to the path, boots crushing defenseless leaves and twigs and whatnot. The cat's eyes gleamed wickedly at the man trailing behind them.

"No, I'm serious! I really don't have a heart." The Tin Man seemed morose, and Max paused as her foot hit the red bricks of the path, and a small part of her actually felt a little bad for him.

"Look, I'm really sorry…" She turned, "But, I'm going to see the Commanding Officer of Terminal City… He's supposed to know how to get me home. I just don't know how to help you."

"Well," The blonde man scratched at his chin for a moment. "Maybe I can go with you. Maybe he'll know how to get me a heart. Failing that, maybe at least he'll get me another side character that's also madly in love with me, thereby selling my ultimate desirability to the audience." He paused, thinking hard for a moment, before adding, "Preferably blonde and younger than you."

Max scowled, annoyed and strangely insulted. "Fine. You can come along… Just… try not to talk, okay?"

Yeah right. All he did was yap, yap, yap. He probably yapped about other people yapping, but the man was the ultimate yapper, the yapper extraordinaire. He knew everything about everything, and he didn't have any problem with sharing it with her. She was almost glad when another cry for help split the air a half hour later. Much longer, and her teeth would be ground down to nubs, all her hair pulled out, and her fingers stuffed so far in her ears, they'd never be extracted. At least not without the help of a surgeon.

"Heeeelloooo? Help? Anybody? Anybody?"

Her heart quickened. That sounded like- She pushed off the path without a second thought, leaving the Tin Man, befuddled, behind. Max pushed through cornstalks, making her way through the field and paused as she broke through all the crops and came to a clearing. She slumped in disappointment, still staring up at the beautiful man tied to a stake like a scarecrow. So much for finding someone she knew.

Hazel eyes widened as they caught sight of her. "Oh, hey, hey, hey, you. You think you could get me down from here?"

She frowned. The cat made an odd purring noise that annoyed Max and made her tempted to leave the man here. "Maybe. How'd you get up there in the first place?"

"Thaaat's not important," The man said, making a little 'meh,' face, waving one hand as best he could.

Max arched an eyebrow. It was probably his own fault he was up there, anyway. Why should she have to help anyone else out today? She was expending all her energy on the Tin Man, she didn't know if she had enough room to be doin' anyone else any favors. Doesn't matter if his nice, white shirt _was_ open, or if he _did_ have a rather fascinating, defined chest.

But the cat leapt from Max's shoulders before Max could completely turn away, and landed on the crossbeam of the bar, beginning to gnaw at the ropes that held one of his arms stationary. The Scarecrow's eyes lit to green fire and he smiled slowly.

"Stop helping him!" Max hissed at mini-Max, but the cat mostly ignored her. Grudgingly, figuring she could get out of here a whole lot sooner if she put her opposable thumbs to good use, she stomped over to the man, pulling the ropes from him easily. He all but fell from the beam, straight into her, and they toppled to the ground, Max letting out an 'oof' as he landed atop her.

How the hell had his hand-

Max shoved her blue checkered skirt back down, blushing slightly, and he retracted his hand from between their bodies, from her thigh, with a wicked grin. "My bad," He said, not lookin' like he meant it. If he'd meant it, he probably would have gotten off of her already. The cat leapt from the crossbeam, landing on the man's back. Mini-Max peered at Max from over his shoulder, eyes glowing golden.

"Will you please let me up?" She huffed, ignoring the cat staring her right in the face, and the man that seemed to be checking out her breasts that suddenly seemed to be better displayed in her bodice… that she could have sworn hadn't been as tight… or as low-cut… before.

"I like it here," He grinned, wiggling against her. The back of her dress was probably super dirty. Great. This was all his fault. If only he hadn't accidentally landed on her, her dress would still be pristine. She wasn't sure, but she thought that maybe she arbitrarily hated him. Then again, maybe he reminded her of someone. Maybe that's why she hated him. Nah, it was probably just a general, random sort of hate.

Something caught her eyes, and her arms lifted, circling his shoulders… and she plucked some straw from the back of his open white collar. "What the hell is this?"

"Farmer's daughters." The Scarecrow winked. And Max suddenly had a feeling she knew why he'd been strung up in a field. Max huffed in disgust, abruptly shoving his laughing form off of her.

"Pig," She scowled, standing up, brushing off dirt from her hem. She made to stomp away, but he caught her hand easily. She frowned, looking down. She had yet to touch the Tin Man, so the Scarecrow goin' for immediate touchy-feely… she felt a little uncomfortable.

"Where you going?" He asked.

She remained mute, glaring stubbornly, and finally he sighed. "Look," he said. "To be honest, I have nowhere else to go. You think… maybe I could go where you go?"

"But you don't even know where I'm going yet!"

"It doesn't matter," He said softly. "I just want to be with you."

She gaped in surprise. "W-What?!"

He backed down immediately. "Then again, I'm not exactly known for my bright ideas. To tell you the truth, I don't have any sense."

"You mean you don't have a brain?" Max asked, in suspicion.

"Are you kidding!" The Scarecrow scowled. "I'm full of brains! I'm up to my ears in brains!" He paused, and then muttered, petulantly, "But sometimes I think the connection between my brain and the rest of me isn't so good. I always seem to be getting into the worst binds."

Max frowned, and even though she arbitrarily hated him, she felt kind of bad for him and finally sighed. "Look, I'm going to Terminal City to see the C.O.. Maybe you can come with me. He might know how to get you a brain."

"I told you," He scowled. "I _have_ brains."

"Yeah, whatever." She stomped off, back through the cornfield, calling over her shoulder. "Listen, if you're coming with me, you gotta stop all this arguing and just agree with me, okay? If I say you don't have a brain, you say-"

"Who the hell is this guy?" The Scarecrow demanded as they broke through the crops, looking at the Tin Man, still waiting on the path for Max to return. "He's not your boyfriend, is he?"

"Him?" Max questioned, making a face. "No, we're not like that. We can't touch."

"What?" The Tin Man demanded. "Why not?"

"Because I'm pretty sure if we did touch, the urge to strangle you would be overwhelming," Max sighed. "Can we get a move on now?"

The Tin Man was lookin' over her blue checkered dress in confusion, though. "Wasn't your dress looser before? And didn't you have an undershirt and a neckline that wasn't quite that low?"

The Scarecrow smirked.

"Can we just go?" Max hissed. There was nothing remotely sexual in her chemistry with the Scarecrow, things didn't just go and get heated when she met him. Her dress had no correlation to their charged banter in the slightest. Man, this place was annoying. She couldn't wait to get home.

Walking was such a pain, especially now with _two_ men by her side. The Tin Man also seemed to arbitrarily hate the Scarecrow, which was so not even allowed. Only Max was allowed to arbitrarily hate the Scarecrow and his lack of brains.

Speaking of Max… where the hell was mini-Max? Max started to look around in sudden surprise. Ever since she'd met the Scarecrow and brought him back to the path, her cat seemed to have disappeared completely, which was so random and confusing and so different from the first half of the story arc.

Max relaxed, noticing that mini-Max was just curled around the Scarecrow's shoulders, having apparently found someone more comfortable to nap on. Oh good. It was still around. It was just sleeping. It would probably wake up eventually, but Max hated that cat anyway, so really, it was better that it stayed asleep. The Scarecrow glanced at her, hazel eyes glinting, and he smirked, and Max shivered and hoped that he wasn't still around when the cat woke back up… Because he was annoying, and the sooner he was gone, the better. She was just sayin'. Her brain wasn't making some strange association between the cat on his shoulders and anything else. Nope. No way.

"I think your dress just got shorter," The Scarecrow rumbled.

"Shut up!" No chemistry, she told herself. No chemistry, no chemistry, no chemistry. Goddammit, where the hell was Alec when she needed him? He could probably get rid of this guy.

The winding path took them past the last of the cornfields, and into another forest. One much spookier, full of smoke and steam. Trunks resembled great, upright pipes, rivers resembled streams of sewer sludge… It was like a forest made from the artifacts of Seattle's hidden underground. Man, how long did it take to get to T.C.? An entire season?

While Max was grumbling to herself, and mini-Max was purring in sleep, while the Tin Man was glaring at the Scarecrow, and the Scarecrow was humming to himself, ignoring everybody, that's when it happened.

It being… well, not much of anything, really. A rather timid creature poked his head around a tree, glancing at them. They all managed to walk right past him without even noticing.

"I feel like we're forgetting something," Max mused aloud, slowing to a halt.

The Scarecrow perked up.

"Something that doesn't involve a sex scene or witty banter," Max huffed.

The Tin Man glanced up.

"Or a long monologue." Max tapped her foot in impatience. That's when she caught sight of the face, peering at her from the darkness between trunks of white PVC. She blinked in confusion. "Hello?"

The Scarecrow whirled, the Tin Man turned a bit more slowly, and a creature walked slowly out of the shadows. The cat did wake up, then, hissing, leaping back to Max's shoulder, but Max shushed it gently. Just because it _looked_ like a dog, didn't mean it was one.

"Hello?" She tried again, taking a tentative step forward.

"Cat," The large dog man sniffed. "Cat on your shoulder."

"Don't hold it against me," She smiled. The dog man smiled back, a little unsure.

"I'm cat, too." The dog man suddenly grinned in enthusiastic sharing, revealing large canines.

"Uhhh…" The Scarecrow started.

"What kind of cat?" Max asked in confusion, trying to keep her voice warm, gentle, and soothing.

"Lion," The so-obviously-_not _a Lion puffed out his chest proudly.

"Umm…" The Tin Man began.

"Be quiet, you two," Max whirled on the men behind her, snarling like a tiger. "If he wants to be a lion, let him be a lion."

"Jeez," The Scarecrow glanced away. "Mama bear, much?"

"Seriously," The Tin Man agreed, glancing in the other direction.

Something loud clanged off in the distance, and the large Lion winced, hunching into himself. Max glanced, but could not see anything through all the smoke. Her hand found the larger man's sleeve, and she patted at him gently. "It was nothing. Just something outside the forest."

"Outside." The Lion's blue eyes widened. "Lion never been Outside before." And he hunched back into himself.

"You're not afraid, are you?" Max asked in concern.

The Scarecrow leaned into the Tin Man. "She does know that guy is as old as you are, right?"

"I'm not old," The Tin Man snapped back.

The Scarecrow frowned, "What are you talking about? You have a Please Use By date stamped to the tin on your ass. And lemme tell you, you don't have a whole lot of freshness left in you."

"I despise you," The Tin Man scowled.

"It's okay to be afraid," Max smiled up at the much larger man, ignoring the other two behind her. "People are often afraid of what they don't understand."

The Lion nodded slowly. "Yes… Lion… afraid, too."

Max frowned. "Don't be afraid." She thought for a moment. "Hey, I know! Maybe you can come with us to T.C.! I'm going to see the Commanding Officer. Maybe he can give you some courage!"

"Oh, never saw that one coming," The Scarecrow rolled his eyes, turning back to her. Max snapped around, hissing, "Shut up," and even the cat seemed to take a shine to the Lion, because it was also hissing. The Scarecrow shrugged, 'cuz as snarky as he was, even he seemed to like the Lion. Maybe he just wanted to use the much more timid man in his brainless hijinks. Then again, as they all started walking again and the Lion gravitated towards the Scarecrow, sort of excluding the Tin Man, maybe they were just kind of kindred spirits. Go figure.

"Come on, Lion, stay with me." Max turned, when the Lion had started to dawdle behind, looking off in the distance at some vision that Max couldn't see. The Lion hunched back into himself, quick to keep up.

"Man, don't let her boss you around like that." The Scarecrow frowned. "You're a grown man."

"No courage," The Lion reminded with a look.

"Oh, right. I forgot."

"That's because you have no brains," The Tin Man said breezily, but probably just because he was heartless and annoyed at being left out.

"Would you people stop saying that!" The Scarecrow huffed in aggravation.

Max ignored them all, because they'd finally made it through the woods… and they were here! This was it! The gates of T.C. The party suddenly became somber, quiet, as they walked through the flaming X's, past the chainlink, and into Terminal City. Funny… but it looked kind of… grungy. Not at all what she was expectin', really.

"Hey, how's it goin'." It was the same transgenic from before, the one from Renfro's office.

"How did you get here before me?" Max asked in confusion.

"Less dialogue. Hey, are you here to see the Wizard?"

"Wizard?" Max made a face.

"Oh crap, sorry, I meant the C.O."

"Yes," Max nodded. "I need to get home. And they-"

"Listen, Ma'am, I'm just followin' orders, you don't have to explain anything to me. I'm just supposed to bring you to the C.O."

"But you're free," Max protested. "You don't have to follow orders anymore!"

He blinked in confusion. "How are we supposed to run an effective military campaign if we're all willy-nilly? We'll never be free of Manticore, not really. Anyway, I digress." He glanced around their grey, dilapidated surroundings. "Oh, I almost forgot, I can't let you into Terminal City until you put these on." He picked up a sack from the ground, pulling something out.

"What are these?" She asked, as the transgenic handed each one in their group a pair.

"Rose colored glasses. You're not allowed into T.C. without them."

Max frowned, but finally sighed and slipped the glasses on… Y'know… actually… this place wasn't that bad. They could build a life here. There's no way anyone would be bombed into oblivion… In fact, a single drop of blood would never have to be spilled, because she could get Logan to move in, and they would find a cure to a virus that had written itself into her DNA, and he could convince the populace that everything was hunky dorey and she'd adopt some puppies and plant some flowers and there would be hugs for everyone and-

The Tin Man and the Lion were equally distracted, following Max and the Extra Transgenic (that would undoubtedly move to Canada soon) into the heart of T.C. Those heart shaped, rose colored glasses sure did a whammy on them. The Scarecrow threw his away when no one else was looking, and frowned at the barely livable conditions, the poor defenses, the children without enough food. He turned to Max, opening his mouth, but would fall back silent, the words caught in his throat, when he saw the dreamy smile on her face. He sighed to himself, and reminded himself that he'd said he'd go wherever she went.

They got all the way to Command, to the heart of T.C., before they were stopped.

"What? What do you mean we can't go in?" Max demanded, rereading the rather large memo attached to Command's front door. Not even the pink tinted glasses saved her from the annoyance.

"Oh, that's a shame." Disposable Transgenic shook his head. "Guess you can't see the C.O. yet."

Max ripped the memo down, the paperwork making her oddly annoyed. Why was there always so much paperwork? Why couldn't she just kick someone's ass and be done with it? The cat on her shoulder, also peering at the memo, seemed to agree, one tiny fang sticking out of its lip.

"What's it say?" The Scarecrow crowded one shoulder as the Tin Man crowded the other.

"We have to go kill some Wicked Witch of the West person." Max scowled.

"Anyone have a gun? I can make it fast." The Scarecrow said solemnly.

Max and the Tin Man gaped.

"What?"

"I don't do guns," Max scowled, just as the Tin Man was saying, "Killing is wrong!"

"Well, guess you'll just be stuck here with me, then." The Scarecrow smiled wickedly at her.

"Shut up," She snapped back, and oh great, now her dress was strapless, before turning back to Unnamed Transgenic. "So, how do we get to this Wicked Witch?"

"Well," He scratched his hair of indeterminate color. "You followed the brick road that's an eerie crimson color here, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that, the Wicked Witch will probably find you on her own. She's rather attached to the brick road. Lots of memories, you see. Plus, you squished her sister with your chair. She's probably pretty pissed."

"She?" Max asked with a thoughtful frown. "Huh, I expected the Wicked Witch to be a male."

"Really?" The Transgenic That Would Probably Die At The Hands of a Familiar looked confused. "Why?"

"I'm not sure. Something just tells me my nemesis is supposed to be a man. A snake-like man, no less."

"Hmm," The transgenic thought quickly. "Well, the Witch _is_ supposed to have green skin. And I suppose a sex change could feasibly have occurred. It's been a long time since anyone's seen her… or him."

"I really hate this place," Max sighed, turning away from Command's large doors, heading back for the exit.

"Don't forget to dispose of the glasses in the recycle container on your way out!" The transgenic called after her.

"Yeah," The Scarecrow rolled his eyes, "Because we'd hate to mess the place up."

They walked, dejected, back through the flaming X's (after disposing of the heart-shaped, rose colored glasses in the recycle containers). "How are we even supposed to find this Wicked Witch?" Max asked. "We don't even know what she… or he… looks like."

"What about that scary castle over there?" The Tin Man pointed. "You think she might be there?"

Max frowned at the castle in the distance. The dark, terrifying one up on the very tall mountain surrounded by thunderclouds and a general sense of death and foreboding. Lion whimpered. "I don't know." She said. "Maybe. But we can't go there, anyway. Going off the path leads to trouble."

"You don't know that." The Tin Man said soothingly.

"Yes, I do. I met you guys when I went off the path," Max scowled.

"Good point."

"But I guess I don't have any choice, do I?" She sighed. She shrugged as well. "Well, let's get goin'."

"That's the spirit." The Tin Man nodded, as they took their first few steps off the blood red path. And immediately found themselves swept in tumultuous winds, pulled away from each other. Strange, but the first one she reached for was the Scarecrow. Maybe because he reminded her of someone… someone she had gotten used to saving… Whatever.

The cat was still with her when the wind finally stopped howling, stopped tossing her about. That was something at least. Everyone else was gone. She was alone in a large chamber, lit by candles. Funny, she couldn't wait for the Scarecrow and the Tin Man to stop yapping, but the silence actually bothered her a bit… and poor Lion, he must be so worried.

"Funny thing about Winds of Destiny. They often leave us alone," A voice, strangely familiar, said musingly. Max whirled in surprise. It wasn't just a chamber. It was a rather large throne room. And there at the end of the echoing emptiness, upon a throne of stone, atop a large dias-

"Who the hell are you?" Max demanded, but figured she probably already knew.

"Me?" The woman blinked. "I'm the Wicked Witch of the West, obviously." She stretched, slowly, on her throne. Leather pants were so constricting.

"But I don't know you," Max scowled.

"What's that got to do with anything?" The woman tossed her long dark hair in annoyance, sitting back up. "You don't know the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, or the Lion, not really, but that didn't stop you from including them in your little fairytale. Hell, you don't even really know your cat that well, but yet, here it is."

"That's different." Max scowled. "I can't get rid of the cat."

Max paused, then frowned. "Besides, weren't you supposed to send your flying monkeys to get me?"

The Witch's brown eyes narrowed in amusement. "What do you think this is, some kind of creepy kid's book? There's no such thing as flying monkeys." She clapped her hands, and a rather scary looking half woman/half shark stepped from the shadows carrying a rather large gun. "I would have sent one my transhumans to get you, if I'd really wanted to. Luckily, your destiny brought you to me anyway."

Max shook her head as the transhuman stepped back, blending back into darkness. "No, this is all wrong. Shouldn't it be a Familiar, or White that I'm facing off with?"

The woman stood, exuding a cool kind of sexuality, and slunk down the steps of the dias. "Well, that's the thing about heroes. Before they can go to the big time, first they must face the darkness in their own hearts."

"I'm pretty sure this wasn't in the book," Max muttered.

"It wasn't." The Wicked Witch's full lips twisted in a smile. "You didn't finish reading the book, remember? You don't know how this story ends."

Oh no. The Witch was right! How the hell was she supposed to beat a Witch? Oh. Right.

By kicking her ass.

Max threw herself at the queen of darkness, but the woman dodged out of the way, like she'd known it was coming. She jumped easily over Max's sweeping kick as well.

"How do you think you can beat me," The Wicked Witch smirked. "I'm part of you, I know every thought before you think it, every move before you make it."

"Shut up!" Max roared, rushing the woman, but she slid out of the way.

"Do you know who made that blood-stained path leading to T.C., Max?" The Witch arched one cool, eyebrow. "That was me. So many people went into that… Zack… Ben… Tinga."

"Stop talking!" Max grabbed at a candle, flinging it at the woman, but she batted it away. Hot wax splattered through the air as it crashed to the stone floor, rolling away into the edges of the room and into sucking darkness.

"You know," The Witch said conversationally, the epitome of evil. "Maybe I'll add your other friends to it as well before this all over. Logan, and Alec, and-"

Max's hand finally made contact, nails raking across the Witch's beautiful, familiar face, and the woman shrieked, leaping away. She brought up one cruelly clawed hand to her caramel skin, touching a scratch, touching blood.

"I won't let you sacrifice anyone." Max scowled. "Anyone other than me."

The Witch backed down, backed away, a hint of fear showing in her eyes. Ahh, self-preservation. Now she was hitting herself where it hurt. "Now, Max, don't talk like that. You don't have to sacrifice yourself at all! You don't even _need_ T.C.." When Max remained silent, looking suddenly troubled, the Witch pressed on. "It's so much hassle and for what? _Nothing_. Nothing but hatred from the Ordinaries and the deaths of your friends. Let the Ordinaries fight for themselves when the Coming comes. It's not your job,"

"Nice try," Max's chin lifted, her jaw firm. "But I've heard your voice before sister, and lemme tell you, just because I hear it on the outside of my head, instead of the inside, doesn't make it any more believable."

"You're just stressed." The Wicked Witch frowned. "You need to take a break is all. Maybe have some time alone with Logan outside the fence, think this through-"

"I don't need to think _anything_ through, and I sure as hell am not going to let myself be distracted from what's _really_ important by something as meaningless as pasta." Max was advancing on the Witch. "I made my choice a long time ago. I'm not running away anymore."

"No one's telling you to run," The Witch replied, soothingly. "I'm just saying to be smart about this. Stop thinking with your heart and-"

"I'm not running away from anything," Max continued on, like she hadn't heard the Witch. "Not from you, not from T.C., not from my destiny… Not from anything."

"Wait!" The Witch suddenly held up a hand, and an orb appeared, hovering in the air. "Are you forgetting something? I have your little friends." The orb split into three, showing each of her companions, the Lion, the Tin Man, and the Scarecrow.

"Let them go," Max scowled, slowing her advance. She had forgotten. She was still in the Witch's power, she had to save her friends. "Or I'll-"

"You'll what? Bounce me on my bitch head? Hate to break it to you sister, but I know all your moves and this is _my_ domain. Besides," The Witch replied in boredom. "They are quite content to be around me, even without you here."

"Yeah, I get it, I can be a bitch, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to leave them here with the dark side of my personality." Max scowled.

"How about I let _one_ go," The Witch smiled. "How about that, Maxie?"

"Don't call me that." Max snapped.

"Oo, you sounded just like me when you said that. Gave me chills." The evil woman's smile lifted, her brown eyes crinkling in delight. Something within Max resolved to never say that again.

"Now," The Witch continued, pointing at each little bubble in turn. "Which will it be? The cowardly Lion that cannot stand up to you? The Scarecrow that you treat as a brainless tool? Or the Tin Man whose heart is no longer in the right place? None of them will leave your side, so I think you must pick the one that I will spare."

"And the other two?" Max scowled.

"Well, they'll stay here with me, of course." The woman blinked in confusion. "We both know you only have it in you to love one person at a time, anyway."

"But you treat them like crap!" Max scowled.

"So?" The Wicked Witch shrugged. Then paused… "You think maybe you can leave the Scarecrow here?"

That was kind of a sadistic little smile.

"C'mon, Max, take the Tin Man, leave the Scarecrow with me."

"Gross," Max made a face. "You're acting like you _like_ hurting him." Like _like_ hurting him. Like in a tingly way. Oh, barf.

"I do," The Witch's eyes lit up. "Evil, remember?"

"This dream sucks," Max muttered to herself. Something caught in the air. The whole world seemed to come to a hushed, ready, standstill.

The Witch froze in horror. "What did you just say?"

"I said, this dream sucks!" Max glanced up, and holy crap, this_ was_ a dream! There was no way she was sitting here talking to an evil duplicate of herself in a faraway, creepy castle, trying to decide upon the welfare of_ one_ of her friends. Nothing in the world would keep her from taking care of _all _of them. And no way in hell did she get tinglies from hurting Alec, that was just sick on a level she didn't even comprehend. She wanted to protect her friend, not hurt him, not if she could help it, not anymore.

"Oh man, that stinks. Once you admit it's a dream, you can wake up whenever you want," The Witch scowled. She glanced down. "Nice boots by the way. Don't really match that skanky dress, though."

Man, she was evil.

Just as Max was about to force herself into consciousness, she turned to look at her dark side and frowned. "Hey, do you know who the C.O. of T.C. is?"

"The Commanding Officer?" The Wicked Witch made a face. "Oh, didn't you guess? That's you too… Just, you know, the really responsible, do-goody, annoying side. You'd probably hate her, too."

"I really need to lay off the caffeine," Max muttered to herself, right before she forced herself awake.

Guess there'd be no hot closet rescue scene with the Scarecrow after all. Oh well.

She was walking in darkness... and then she was swimming into the light, and a voice was in the distance, a familiar voice.

"-ke up? Can you hear me?"

She made a soft sound, pained, in the back of her throat.

"Maxie?" The voice was gentle, and her eyes fluttered in response. Slowly they opened, and Max squinted into the bright light, at the hazy form before her. But even if she couldn't see with the glare in her eyes, she knew-

"Alec?" She croaked.

Alec relaxed, and Joshua, behind him, slumped. Logan, across the room, a safe distance away, sighed in relief.

Her hand went slowly to her forehead, her eyes squeezing shut. "What happened?"

"I came in and you were pretty sucked into your book." Alec shared a glance with Joshua. "I guess I startled you and you started to get up, but that piece of crap chair practically fell apart. You fell backwards and hit your head on the windowsill before I could even get halfway cross the room." Not even going into the fact that he had made a run for her, like some kinda knight in stupid, shiny armor.

"But it was so real," She muttered. She glanced up at them, still hovering over her. "You were there, and _you_ were there, and-"

"Okay, we get the idea," Alec said blandly. "We were all there." Alec glanced at Josh again. "Somebody hit their head a liiiiittle bit hard."

"Shut up," Max managed, struggling to sit up, and collapsing backwards. Logan stood, concerned, Alec reached for her, but it was Joshua that caught her, helping her sit slowly the rest of the way up.

"Would you like me to drive you home?" Logan asked, warm and concerned, a far cry from the cold man he'd been earlier.

Max shook her head, immediately regretting it. "No, I gotta-"

Joshua frowned at her. "Max needs to go home. Get rest." Max frowned at him, but Josh just arched one nonexistent eyebrow, refusing to back down.

"I'll take her." Alec frowned, and his hazel eyes were still concerned. Maybe they didn't always get along, but they were friends, and riproaring fights or not, he did care about her. Logan started to protest, but Alec shook his head. "No, Logan, be smart about this. If she gets dizzy, what are you gonna do? Let her fall on her face?" And before anyone in the room could protest, Alec's arms slid around under Max and he lifted her, bridal-style, coming to his feet fluid and easy.

"I can walk." She frowned at him.

Alec ignored her. "Hey, Loge, be a pal and get the door, man."

"Seriously, Alec. Two feet. Still attached to my legs. Fully functional." She kicked them experimentally and even that made her head rock in nausea, how unfair was that? Ugh. Concussions were the worst. She hoped she wouldn't have to be laid up in bed too long. Her face colored in shame as she felt a few eyes on them as Alec carried her through Command. Thank God it was a Sunday and the place was mostly empty.

"Just so you know, if you tell anyone what happened-"

"Slow and painful death, I gotcha, Maxie." Alec nodded. And maybe it was just because she was hurting, but she didn't even get the urge to snap at him when he used her nickname.

It wasn't until they were out the front doors that Max gave in and let her head pillow gently on his shoulder.

"I had the weirdest dream," She muttered.

"Really? 'Bout what?" He asked, his arms tightening around her.

She pressed a hand to her head. "Ugh, I've forgotten already." She sighed. Then said, thoughtful, "Y'know, I didn't even get a chance to finish Josh's book before you concussed me." And now she'd be too dizzy to focus on words for the next couple of days.

"Hey! That wasn't my fault!" He paused before adding, "Y'know… I know how the story ends… I could… tell it to you, if you want."

She nodded as best she could, and then she relaxed a bit as she saw her building coming into view. "Hey Alec?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't really think I'm the Wicked Witch, do you?"

"Yes," He smiled. "I really do…" She remained silent and he grudgingly admitted, after a moment, "But I think there's a bit of Dorothy in there, too."

Her arms lifted, wrapping around his neck, her fingers glancing across black lines, as her hazy mind started to shut back down, and something slightly like a purr rumbled out of her unthinking chest.

"What are you doing?" He asked, suddenly tense as something catlike in him noticed her back.

"Checking you for straw." She mumbled, her eyes shutting, her breathing evening.

Wha-

"What the hell was that all about?" Mole asked, peering out the window as Max and Alec disappeared up the street.

Joshua blinked, turning to the other transhuman. He smiled slowly. "Scarecrow was always Dorothy's favorite."

"What?" Moles beady eyes went even more narrow in confusion.

Joshua handed an orange book, the one he'd picked up with a frown as he was leaving the office, to the other transhuman. Mole blinked down at the thin book in confusion.

"What the hell is this?" Mole asked.

"Is book," Joshua rolled his eyes. "You read."

"Yeah, right. I don't read nothin' that don't have naked pictures in it, buddy."

Joshua just shook his head, walking off.

"Frank Baum," Mole mused to himself, when the other transhuman was a safe distance away. The worn pictures on the orange binding made him think this… this… _thing_… might be a children's book, and he found himself vaguely wondering if Eve was too young to be read to. He should probably check it out, make sure it didn't have any corrupting elements, first.

Didn't have anything to do with the fact that having no cable seriously sucked and he spent most his nights bored out his mind.

The book wasn't that large, it was no match for his superior intellect, and he got through it fairly quickly. There were definitely some creepy elements in there. He might have to wait till little Evey was a little bit older. Flying monkeys? Melting witches? Seriously. Creepy. He stalked across the kitchen, not even noticing that some dish soap had leaked from a cabinet, a container must have burst, and made a small area of the floor slick and dangerous and Mole's leg shot out from under him before he even realized what had happened.

Mole cocked his shotgun, staring down at the kid that was smiling way too big. Never trust smilers. That was Mole's motto. "What the hell are you supposed to be?"

The kid proffered him some kind of children's candy, something on a stick. It looked sticky and sweet and positively revolting. "We represent-"

"Yeah, whatever, shrimpy." Mole grabbed the candy, tossing it into the bushes. The child immediately started to cry but Mole, being Mole and only caring about one child in the world, ignored him, stomping on down a path made of gold. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could see a rather ginourmous ammunition factory off in the distance, and the path seemed to be leading straight to it. He didn't know where he was, or how he'd gotten here, but he was relatively sure he was low on ammo and needed a fill up.

"Aren't you going to tell him about the witch?" A small, round face peered up at a woman that Mole couldn't see but that looked remarkably like Gem.

"Why? He'll just shoot her if he sees her anyway," The good fairy shrugged with a smile, watching the large transhuman skip off down the yellow brick road.

"Are you at least gonna tell him he's wearing a dress?"

"Are you kidding?! Do I _look_ like I want to die?"

* * *

P is for Pig

Rated K+

* * *

"But… what are you going to do with it?"

"Eat it," Josh's eyes gleamed in glee.

"But it's so cute!" Max exclaimed in horrified disbelief.

The little, tiny, defenseless baby pig made little whuffling noises inside its cage, and if you'd have asked Max, those noises sound remarkably like little cries of terror, begging her to save him.

"Max, is _my_ pig!" Josh cried in dismay as Max stomped out of his digs, the little black pig tucked securely in her arms.

"What the hell is that?" Alec shot off her desk, away from the animal that was rooting at his feet.

"It's a pig," Max shrugged, barely looking up from the letter in her hands.

"Yeah, I can see that," He replied blandly, and she could feel his steady stare boring into the top of her head. She glanced up in irritation, schooling her features into disinterest in the face of his arched eyebrow and twisted mouth and lips that just would _not_ stop yakking. "What's it doing in your office?"

"I saved him."

Alec pondered for a quick moment before focusing back on her with a slight frown. "Is _that_ why Joshua was so upset this morning?"

"Well, I couldn't let Josh eat him!" She defended, a little guilty, finally dropping the letter in her hands to focus more wholly on the conversation (and hence, her defense).

"Why not?" He demanded. "If you brought home a chicken, I'd let _you _eat it."

Something cat-like gleamed in Max's narrowed eyes, her mouth twisting in a sadistic little smile. "That's completely different." There was a hint of a purr in her voice, and it made Alec's mouth twitch in amusement.

"Hardly." He paused, glancing down at the little black creature that was snuffling at his shoe. Okay, so it was kind of cute. "Why is it so small and hairy?" He covered up the sissy reaction. "Aren't pigs supposed to be all huge and… not hairy?"

"It's a baby," Max finally stood, glaring at him. "And he's supposed to be hairy, he's a potbelly." She crossed round the desk quickly, swooping down to lift her pig quickly, like she was trying to protect it from Alec's less than enamored reaction or something.

Alec shook his head, "A potbelly? And you know this how?"

"Logan," Max pet the top of her little piggy's head lovingly. Logan. Of course. Alec rolled his eyes. Maybe it was that hint of bitterness that made his mouth keep moving.

"Yeah, well, good luck on growing him to a ripe old age. In T.C.? Come on, Max, he'll escape and he'll be dinner before you know it." Best not get attached, that was Alec's motto.

"So I'll put up a memo or something," Max shrugged.

"What? Attention transgenics; eat my pig and be prepared to die?" Alec rolled his eyes. Get attached and cling by the very last of bloody fingernail fragments, that was Max's motto. He'd have been more annoyed, but her unfailing refusal to give up had helped save his ass once or twice… and Joshua's too. Now, if only her stubbornness didn't apply to one Logan Cale…

"If I have to, yes." She scowled, sinking into her chair, still holding her pig, oblivious to the way Alec's eyes had gone distant.

Alec made a face, hardly conceding that half his attention had wandered to her… could it be called a relationship?... with Logan. Had to give him props, the disgust on his face was multi-purpose, and it really did look like he was focusing on her and the pig in her arms. "That's just not even hygienic."

"I gave him a bath, stupid!"

He released thoughts of the Ordinary to focus on Max in amusement. "You bathed a pig? Isn't that kind of defeating the purpose of pig-kind?"

Max huffed in annoyance. "Did you need something, or did you just come to bother me?"

He paused for a long moment. That answers that question; he'd just come in to bother her. He must have seen her roll her eyes, because he covered up the facts quickly. "Of course I need something," He scowled. "You think I like putting up with you?"

"Okay. So, what do you need?"

A long moment of silence.

One thin eyebrow arched in amusement. "Well?"

"Hold on," he huffed, "I'm thinking."

"You're stalling."

"I'm bored," He conceded.

"I know," She smiled. "But what do you want me to do about it?"

"Put down the pig for two seconds and entertain me,"

Her response was immediate and cheerful. "Get lost."

She named the pig Rocko. Even a week later, Josh still got bent out of shape every time he saw the little black pig that had escaped his very large cook pot. He couldn't stay in Command very long on the days that Max brought Rocko with her to the office. Actually, he couldn't hang out with Max much, either, telling Alec that she smelled like 'dinner', much to Alec's amusement… Much to Max's horror when Alec relayed Joshua's sentiments to her when she was being all bad moody because of Josh's avoidance.

"It's not so much that he's still mad at you," Alec said soothingly. "More, it's that he thinks you smell like pork chops."

"That's ridiculous!" She exclaimed.

"He's got the nose of a dog," Alec shrugged. "You can't fault him for that." Max's steely-eyed expression said otherwise, said she can and would.

"Fix this," Max glowered at Alec.

"What? Me?!" He exclaimed, "I don't have anything to do with this! You're the one that stole Joshua's dinner in the first place!"

"Josh likes you," Max made a face, like she couldn't understand why, but it was more habit than real sentiment. "He'll listen to you. Convince him to stop avoiding me."

"Do it yourself." He replied in boredom, hoping this wouldn't take much longer. Him n' Max, him n' Josh, yeah, Best Friends Forever, or whatever, but drama over a pig was a little beyond him. He could be doing something useful right now… like inventorying stuff or making fun of Logan… yeah… that last one sounded good.

But Max was still all hell-bent on talking his ear off. "How can I when he runs the other way before I even get a foot in the door!"

"Well, shower once in a while, Bacon Bits."

He ducked out of the way of the pen, dropped himself to a low crouch to avoid the lightweight stapler, and yelped when the balled up memo bounced off his head, probably because he'd been expecting something much heavier to crash against his skull. He straightened slowly, oddly grateful that he wasn't suffering from a concussion (god, being near her had screwed up his outlook on life) and he sighed, very much put upon.

"You want me to get Joshua talking to you again?" He asked. Her look said 'duh,' but he ignored it. "Then I'm going to need to borrow your pig,"

"No way!" She glanced down at her pet, sleeping at her feet, then back up at her friend in wariness.

"You want Josh to talk to you or not?!" He demanded. Max scowled and would say nothing. Alec rolled his eyes. "God, Max, I won't let Joshua eat your frickin' pig. Have a little faith, won't you?"

Grudgingly, she gave in to him, and he took Rocko, disappearing from Command. There was nothing to worry about, she told herself. Joshua's loyalty and trust in Alec was second only to Alec's loyalty to Max... there was no way Alec would let Josh eat her pig... She hoped. Max teetered on nails for the remaining afternoon, and the sun was setting when she could no longer take it, when she had to stomp across T.C. to Joshua's apartment. She was so angry, so scared, by the time she made it up the steps, she half expected to hear the quick pop of fat frying or, even worse, smell bacon. So, when the door slammed open, she wasn't expecting-

Rocko was wrapped in a blanket, like a baby, being held snuggly in Joshua's arm as the large man bottle-fed the small creature.

"It's all about perspective," Alec reminded as he sidled up to her, frowning. "I figured the pig was still young enough to know what a nipple is, and I was right. Josh thought of Rocko as dinner. Now he can't."

Max glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, her mouth pressed in a firm line. He was right. Josh was a nurturer at heart. He didn't have it in him to eat her baby, not if they were on the same piggy loving page.

"A thanks would be nice, Max." He said blandly, taking her silence for annoyance. "Jeez, you're acting like you wanted me to let him eat your damn pig."

The word felt harsh and foreign and it fairly grated out of her unwilling lips. "…Thanks."

His eyes lit in glee. "Now tell me I'm your hero,"

Her look told him to stuff it.

"No? What about a little kiss, then?" He leaned in, proffering a cheek. No kiss, just an elbow to the ribs, followed by a slight 'oof' of pain, while he wondered why he bothered. But she smiled in delight at Joshua and Rocko, her eyes warm and vibrant, and it was kind of worth it.

And he hated to admit it, but Rocko was starting to grow on him… Even if Rocko was a stupid name for a pig, he grumbled to himself. Sounded like a wallaby's name or something. She should have taken his suggestion and named the pig Peaches. There was something decidedly sadistic about the name Peaches. Then again, maybe all that pre-Pulse programming was just starting to get to him.

"You know he's just going to get bigger." Logan's voice was knowledgeable and commanding. Alec paused outside the door, unwilling to go in just yet. Logan always got on his nerves when he was in Teacher (Call me Mr. Superiority) Mode. "He won't always be cute,"

"What's your point?" Max's voice was annoyed, which means Logan must have just come in. Any longer, and her voice would be sounding brow-beaten, not irritated. Alec leaned into the wall next to her door, but it's not like he was eavesdropping. They were the ones that had left the office door open in the first place.

Logan continued on, like he hadn't heard her. "Plus, the older he gets, the less he'll like to be held. And pigs, they'll get into anything that isn't bolted down or screwed shut-"

"So I'll train him," Max shot back. "You're the one that told me that they're super smart in the first place. I already got him going in the litter box Josh grabbed for me and he nudges at the door when he wants to go outside."

"Super smart isn't always a good thing. If he gets bored, he could start destroying stuff and-"

"Logan, will you just get to the point already?"

Alec's eyesbrows rose into his hairline. Note to self, if Max can take that tone with _Logan_ over her pig, _he_ probably needed to treat Rocko like a prince to avoid her wrath.

"The point is, I've only been watching him for an _hour_, and he's toppled my CPU tower, gotten into every one of my cabinets, and eaten all my uncooked pasta-"

"Maybe he doesn't like you." Max interrupted, her voice surly, and Alec wondered if Max didn't much like Logan right now, either.

"Max, I'm just saying that keeping a pig as a pet in the heart of T.C. might not be the best idea."

Especially when your boyfriend doesn't like said pig, Alec snorted to himself. Max might have been thinking the same thing, because she kept her mouth shut. Her silence afforded Logan an opportunity to continue. Her silence gave Alec a chance to hold his breath, knowin' that Logan was about to talk himself into trouble.

"You don't have to play mother to every single thing you come across."

Alec's eyebrows rose. Even he hadn't been expecting that. Max's squawk of outrage, "What?!", made him wince in sympathy.

"Max, be reasonable. You did the same thing with Josh, with Alec, with half the transgenics that stumble in. But this is a pig we're talking about. Sometimes you have to step back and look at things from an objective angle."

"Objective?!" Max demanded. "If I was _objective_, Rocko would have been eaten by now, none of those new arrivals would know what to do with themselves, and Alec probably would have been dead _ages_ ago! We can't all hide behind the safety of a video monitor, Logan. Some of us-"

"Hi, Alec!" Kristi waved exuberantly from down the hall. The office went deathly silent. Crap. He could either walk in, the few steps necessary to make it in the door making it obvious, to Max at least, that he'd been listening in. Or he could wait out here for Kristi to catch up with him so she could regale him with the newest fascinating tidbits about Micah, her son; spitting, pooping, smiling, the whole nine yards. The decision was easy. He booked it into the office before Kristi could make it halfway down the hall.

"Hey guys." Alec smiled winningly.

"How long were you standing out there?" Logan asked suspiciously. Max just watched him with narrowed eyes.

"Me? Just got here." Alec lied, all seriousness. Serious, because pulling out the charming act would have put them on the defense. Max kept her eyes narrowed, again with the crap, he should have stayed in the hallway. She was mad at Logan and guess who was now gonna get to be the lucky scapegoat? Whee, fun.

But she didn't create an excuse to start tearing into him and he had to pause and blink in confusion when Max told Logan in a cold tone that she'd be by to pick up her pig soon. For now, she and Alec had some paperwork to go over. Maybe she was _really_ mad, and she just didn't want Logan around for the bloodshed. Alec winced as the door shut behind the older man.

Max looked up to see Alec in the defensive; hunched into himself, eyes squeezed shut, hands fisted at his sides. She almost laughed, but instead she asked, "What's wrong with you?"

Alec's narrowly opened one tightly screwed shut eye, but she didn't have anything heavy in her hand to throw at him. And she didn't _look_ like she was about to jump out of her seat to pound on him. Huh. He relaxed. "Nothin', what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," But Max only enunciated hard and sharp like that when something was eating her, otherwise it would have been a drawl, lazy and loose. Proper pronunciation with a transgenic was never a good thing.

"Who do you think you're kidding?" He asked, sitting across from her in a secondhand chair (or thirdhand, or fourthhand, or-).

"Sometimes? Myself." She muttered, and Alec's head swung up so fast, something in his neck popped.

"What?" He demanded. She looked at him, almost surprised, like she hadn't meant to say that out loud. The whole world felt precarious, like something was about to tip and tumble over-

But Max relaxed. "It's nothing." And she pulled out some paperwork that was way worse than a fistfight could have been. Alec only stuck around because he was hoping she might suddenly turn and say something bad about Logan and he could be there to comfort her in a strictly friendly type manner. That and, you know, responsibility and what not. Sucks being responsible when it means you have to pour over a forest of paperwork, a sea of demands from the police, from the mayor, from the governor, from the senators (not all from this state, even), from the president and the secret service and the FBI, etc. and so forth, and each with careful codes of conduct for transgenics to follow precisely or be bombed into oblivion. It was petty, but Alec circled every misspelling or instance of bad grammar; it made him feel better.

"Wanna move?" Alec looked up suddenly when he came across one from the great state of Florida. Florida. Seriously? How could a 6 o'clock curfew in _Washington _affect the concerned citizens of Florida?

"Yes," Max said honestly, not even looking up. Alec sighed, because he did too, but they both knew she would never go for it, not really. They ('they' being 'she') had decided to make a stand, to fight for their rights, to make a better world for those dead and gone, for those still coming into the world… but still. Seriously. Hermit cabin, in the mountain, just the two of 'em and maybe Josh and maybe Rocko and definitely not Logan-

"Why are you smiling?" Max demanded.

His eyes refocused. "What?" He replied, suddenly tired, and he rubbed his eyes. "No reason."

The sudden defeat in his shoulders was even worse than the weird ass smile. She hesitated only slightly, trying to keep the concern from her face. "Is... something bothering you?"

"No," He sighed. "It's nothing."

"Yeah right," Max snorted and went back to her letter, but her eyes kept darting to him, a little weighing, a little worried.

Okay, so he could admit it, at least to himself if not to her. His thoughts had taken a definite anti-Logan turn lately. So he liked her. A little. Big deal. Didn't mean he wanted to marry her. Probably meant he wanted to sleep with her. Generally, though, he just wanted to be around her (when she was in a good mood) but it's not like anything would come of it. As strained as things could get between her and Captain America, she'd never _really_ kick Logan to the curb. Besides, Alec was probably only having this monumental lapse in judgement because of... Stress? Yes, stress, and being cooped up with her, and always being around her, and having to be her whining board every time something went wrong in her life. She'd never see him as anything more than a helping hand... and not even in a good, kinky way. In a best friend, BFF, platonic, use-as-a-doormat sort of way.

Like the time a couple months later when Max showed up on his doorstep in a panic, and asked him if he'd seen her pig anywhere. Alec sighed and grabbed his jacket, following her out the door. She didn't even turn to check and see if he was coming, just kept talking in those frantic tones. Rocko had gotten _a little_ bigger (at that, Alec finally snorted), so maybe someone had decided- But Alec was only half-paying attention, anyway. He was the first one she'd come to, and he wanted to pretend like that meant something, but really it probably just meant that she was used to him being her doormat (see above, BFF). Joshua was next, and Logan after that, and Logan probably only got included in the search party because he'd happened to be in Command and he had a car. No one could deny that the long months with the virus (and the pig) between them hadn't taken its toll.

But that was neither here nor there, and they split up into search parties. Joshua was in charge of asking around and sweeping the areas near Command. Logan, having a car, would drive Max out to the outskirts of T.C., to continue the search.

Which left Alec with-

"I hate her," He grumbled as he lifted the sewer cover.

It was close to midnight when her spirits started to slip. They'd done a circuit around the outskirts of T.C., and Max had just told Logan to take her back to the front gates, where they'd started from, for their second check. But Logan wasn't game.

"What are you doing?" She demanded with wide eyes as he turned down the wrong street, taking a road that would lead them back into the heart of T.C., towards Command. He didn't say anything, so she turned and looked at him. "Logan,"

Her sullen glare compounded his exasperation. "Max, you're going to have to face it. He's gone."

"Easy for you to say! You're giving up!"

Logan tried to keep his face sympathethic, but with that little bit of exasparation, that little bit of I-told-you-so, his expression was more akin to constipation than anything else. "I told you it wasn't a good idea to keep a pig as a pet."

Max's mouth worked for a moment, soundless, before she pushed herself back into her seat and refused to look at him. "You want me to come in?" Logan asked softly as he pulled to a stop outside of Command. The door slamming in his face was answer enough. Her mood wasn't helped when she pushed through the front doors, and saw Joshua already waiting for her, looking sad and defeated.

"Sorry, Max," He whined, shoulders hunching in guilt. "Nobody has seen Rocky." As upset as she was, she didn't even have it in her to correct him for the one millionth time; Rocko, not Rocky.

"It's okay." She slumped, rubbing her large friend's arm soothingly. "Maybe Alec-" But inside, she could feel herself start to give up. An hour passed with no sign of Alec, and that feeling of painful surrender only strengthened. Another half hour would bring a surge of anger. Alec had probably given up ages ago. He'd probably never started looking in the first place. He probably used her distraction to slip out of T.C. and head to some seedy bar where he could- The door was kicked open and Max's head whipped around, her eyes blazing in rage.

Alec came trudging in, fairly reeking of sewer, but he was burdened by the weight of 'little' Rocko in his arms, and as her rage dissipated like smoke, Alec, he'd never looked more… more… She didn't know. Effulgent? He set down the pig gingerly, glanced up into Max's glowing, radiant face, his mouth opening to hurl his annoyance… and almost fell over when her lips pressed against his own, just for a moment, quick, grateful, spontaneous. She pulled away before his brain could restart, and she scooped up Rocko (with an 'oof') and left before his mouth could ruin it.

Not that he said anything anyway, just stared after her in kind of a bemused silence. Josh sidled up to him, a gleeful light in his eyes, and before he could spill the words from open lips, Alec turned to him and frowned. "Don't even start, pal."

Joshua shrugged, all innocence. And his gentle glee wasn't helped when he saw the large memo attached to Command's front door the following day. It was brisk, abrupt, and it had Alec's sweeping signature across the bottom. Attention, transgenics, it said. Eat Max's pig and be prepared to die.

Max laughed aloud when she saw it, added her own messy scrawl beneath Alec's, and pushed past some of the gawkers. It was a joke, he told Max later, surly and annoyed from all the ribbing he'd gotten. Max nodded solemnly in her doorway, like that made perfect sense, her eyes warm.

"Want to come in?" She asked, and he paused, 'cuz he didn't think she'd ever asked him that before; usually he just barged his way in and she let him because it was too much effort to keep him out. She turned, not waiting for his answer, moving back into her apartment, and he shut the door gently behind him, followed her, a little unsure.

But ever since Alec had rescued him from the sewers a couple days ago, Rocko, who had liked him to begin with, was now beyond enamored of the man, and the sound of the door shutting drew his attention. A piggy head peered around the bedroom door and a piercing squeal ripped through the small apartment as Rocko rushed him. But Rocko wasn't as small as he used to be and a hundred pound of pig suddenly colliding with his legs sent Alec stumbling.

Max caught his shoulders, he caught her waist, and her breasts caught his face. He blinked in confusion for half a moment before looking up slowly, into her wide eyes.

"Don't hurt me?" He tried.

But she relaxed, rolling her eyes. "It was just an accident."

"Yeah," he joked wryly as he straightened slowly, "Like anyone would want-" But she froze, tense, a little self-conscious and used to failed relationships, and he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. His fingers squeezed her waist and he pulled her in abruptly, softer curves colliding with him in interesting ways. "It was a joke," He said solemnly.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders. "Let go of me," and she almost regretted it when he did, stepping away from her immediately. Back into Rocko, still hovering anxiously behind him, and Alec would have fallen backwards onto his butt if Max hadn't caught his flailing arms, pulling him back into her once more.

Alec smiled crookedly at her. "Change his name to Cupid." And then immediately regretted it, wondering how she'd take it. She just stared at him, all wide-eyed and unsure, and kissing her was probably a terrible idea, but Alec was just rife with terrible ideas and he couldn't keep his head from falling forward, his lips brushing against hers.

A few months after that, Max was sleeping like the dead when a loud squeal pierced the night air and a man's curse ripped through the living room. The offender looked up in annoyance to see 452, in a man's oversized t-shirt, glaring at him.

"Special Agent Ames White," She scowled. "You just stepped on my pig. And that's not cool." Her fist crashed into his face, and as he fell to the ground, unconscious, blood pouring from his nose, the owner of the t-shirt she was in paused sleepily in the bedroom doorway.

"Max?" Alec questioned, freezing defensively when he saw White on the ground.

"How the hell did he get in here?" Max scowled, glaring down at White as one might a loathsome rodent.

"I'm telling you. Cabin. In the woods. Seriously." Alec shook his head.

"I don't care if an _army_ of familiars marches through my living room," Max replied stubbornly, stooping down to run a hand across the coarse hair of Rocko's swayed back. "We are not abandoning T.C."

"Fine," Alec scowled back. "Since White obviously knows where we live, we'll just hope for the best. Hey, when he wakes up, we can ask him, when he breaks out of our holding cell, _again_, and comes back with all his familiar buddies, could he be kind enough to _not_ shoot us in our sleep or set our building on fire?"

Max glared at him, stubbornly, as he turned and went back to bed, Rocko trotting on heavy hooves behind him. Traitor. Which left her to dump White's deadweight into a holding cell on the other side of T.C. with their neighbor Joshua's help. It was a good thing Rocko slept between them that night, huddling into their warmth, or she might have smothered her boyfriend with his pillow.

"You're right," She said softly, the next morning, and Alec almost choked on his eggs.

Which is how it'd ended up just them and a pig, and sometimes Josh, and definitely not Logan, in the middle of nowhere.

Which is really the way he'd wanted it from the beginning.

The pig, that is, not Alec.

Rocko had never liked Logan to begin with.


	11. Q

* * *

Q is for Queen

Rated T+

* * *

Rachel Berrisford was beautiful and kind. Rachel Berrisford was virtuous and sweet. Rachel Berrisford was pretty and witty and it was impossible to speak to her without being completely won over.

Rachel Berrisford was a pain in Max Guevara's ass.

Oh, Rachel this and oooo, Rachel that, and Max, did you see what my darling, beautiful, kind, virtuous, sweet, pretty, witty princess Rachel bought for me today?

Gag me.

So the girl didn't smoke, didn't drink, didn't swear. How could she when she'd been born with that large silver spoon shoved in her mouth? So she was pretty… ish. Lots of people were pretty. Tons. Millions. She wasn't nothin' special. And maybe the girl's grammar was impeccable, her speech precise, but no one cares 'bout that kind of stuff, anyhow. All that told anyone was that Daddy had enough money to send her to a private school, and how wrong was that when most people couldn't even go to _public_ school anymore, had to start work at the ripe old age of nine? Really, if you asked Max Guevara, all Rachel Berrisford was, at the end of the day, was overrated.

"Boo, you trippin'."

"I'm serious."

"Max, the girl practically walks on water. She's high-class, respectable, intelligent, beautiful-"

"Annoying, snobby-"

O.C. made a face. "When has she ever been-"

"One hundred percent hyped up." Max continued on, like she hadn't heard her friend's objection. "No one is that perfect, I don't care what any of you bozos think."

Cindy pursed her lips, her face descending into annoyance. "Gee, thanks, Max."

Max sunk into the table, burying her head into her arms. "If I have to hear about her and her stupid perfection one more time-"

"Hey, Max," Alec leaned into her back, reaching over her shoulder to nab a french fry, and she jumped in surprise, her shoulder connecting solidly with his elbow, her back with his front. Alec had always been a little interloper when it came to the realm of 'personal space'. And so much for transgenic reflexes and observation. The taller man glanced between the two women as he drew his arm back over her shoulder, his heat radiating into her back. "Who you guys talkin' about?"

"No one," Max scowled, glowering at him up and over her shoulder. Alec shrugged, stuffing _her_ fry into his mouth and her glare tightened into the realm of lethal.

"Where's Rachel?" Cindy asked, hiding her smile. Max almost broke her neck, whipping her head around so fast to glare daggers at her best friend. Cindy pretended sudden amused interest in the froth of her beer.

"Some charity event with her Dad," Alec shrugged, his eyes tightening. There was obviously tension there. If Rachel weren't around to smooth things over, then… well… Rachel wouldn't be there, and that was fine in Max's book. Anywhere Rachel wasn't was a good place to be.

"So, what is it, exactly, Maxie, that bothers you about my girlfriend?" Alec sat on the stool by her side. It was almost comical the way Max's head snapped around, again, and she stared at him, cornered, her eyes wide, her mouth working soundlessly.

"Who told you she bothers me?" Max finally managed to demand.

Alec's face went bland. "My superior transgenic hearing picked it up as I was standing right behind you. Plus, the whole loud voice and piercing whine didn't help much either." After a moment, he added thoughtfully, "And the total overreaction when you realized that I heard just now, that was kind of a biggie." Max scowled, but Alec remained unfazed in the face of her ire.

"Well?" He demanded, like it was important or something. Pfft. Who cares about him n' his smelly old girlfriend, anyway?

"Nothing," She finally looked away. "There's nothing wrong with her."

Actually, that was fairly accurate. And that was exactly Max's problem with the girl. Rachel Berrisford was practically perfect in every way. In fact, the girl's perfection made her almost inhuman, untouchable, a class unto herself. Anyone else paled in comparison. It reminded her of someone, but she couldn't say who.

"Is it because she's rich?" Alec demanded, leaning forward, the butt of his palm resting on the back of her stool, trapping her between muscle and table. "'Cuz that's not exactly her fault. And Logan's not exactly lining up for handouts at the soup kitchen, either."

She didn't even bother leaning into the table, away from his arm. "God, Alec, I just told you, nothing is wrong with her."

"Quit BS-ing me," He scowled. "You don't like her."

"I'm nice to her," Max defended. "I smile."

"If by smile you mean you show teeth, then yes, you smile." Alec frowned, abruptly pulling away from her and sitting back up.

Cindy nodded in agreement. "True dat. You do a pretty good impression of a shark when she around, Max."

Ganged up on by Team Rachel? Her night just kept getting' better n' better. "Fine," Max snapped. "So I don't like her. Big deal. Is there some rule somewhere that says I have to like everyone?"

Alec pursed his lips in annoyance, her words obviously eating at him. But instead of sticking around and arguing his point till he was blue in the face (blue, because she'd heard enough and would choke him if he kept talking), he rolled his eyes and slid off the stool in a huff, headed towards Sky and Marcus, shooting a game of pool in the back. Maybe he realized there was just no arguin' with Max when she got set in her ways. Max didn't feel anything but relieved as he stalked off.

But Cindy turned on Max almost immediately. "You wrong for that."

Max blinked in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"Your opinion means a lot to him," Cindy replied, serious.

"Please," She rolled her eyes.

"Max, why you think he always talking about her to you? For some reason, Hot Boy has got it in his head that he needs your approval, and until you give it to him, he's just gonna keep singing her praises, tryin' to change your mind."

"He talks about her so much, I'm wonderin' if he's not tryin to talk _himself_ into likin' her," Max muttered.

O.C. fixed her friend with a look. "You crazy. And be honest. She a whole _hell_ of a lot better than the normal sleaze bags he hang with."

Max grumbled to herself. That's debatable. At least you know where you stand with a sleaze-bag. Over them. All Max could feel when standing next to Rachel Berrisford is small. Didn't help that everyone worshipped the ground the younger girl walked on, Alec most especially. Even Logan liked her. Maybe that was part of the problem. Max had been Queen Bee for so long, suddenly finding herself in second place was a huge, uncomfortable pill to swallow.

"If she's so great, what's she doin' with him?" Max sniffed.

"Ya got me," Cindy shook her head sadly. "Such a waste of a fine specimen-"

"Cindy. Seriously. Not helping."

"Sorry, boo." The woman shrugged, lifting her beer, takin' a sip before she could get herself in any more trouble. Because the next question, undoubtedly, would be, 'are you jealous,' and Max's anger would probably blow the lid off this place if O.C.'s mouth ever got that stupid. She paused in her sip, eyebrow arching, and sat her beer back down, leaning over towards Max.

"Don't look now, but guess whose slim little hips just swung in the door."

Max froze for a moment, before it became too much and she _had_ to turn on her stool, towards the entrance. It was _her_, of course it was, who else would it be? Swear to god, nowhere was safe. Not Max's job, and now, not Max's hangout. Anywhere Alec was, Rachel was, and unfortunately, it seemed like Alec was always around Max. Max was halfway convinced that one day she would come home and the twenty year old would be in her apartment.

Is it wrong to wish that somebody had stayed in a coma? Probably.

Max turned quickly back to her best friend, her back tense, hoping the girl would just pass her by and head for Alec. And then she was mildly disgruntled when the girl _did _ignore them, like they were beneath her notice. Max's head turned on its own, her gaze picking them out immediately.

"Max, you starin'."

"I am not," She snapped, but was unable to look away as Alec turned, like he could sense his girlfriend coming. This is the part she always watched, the part that ate at her more than it should. A genuine smile washed over Alec's features when he caught Rachel's eyes, transforming him into someone Max hardly recognized; someone free from the taint of Manticore. Someone whole.

"Yes you are," O.C. insisted. "And you look like someone just crashed your birthday party and ate all yo cake."

Max turned back to the table, burying her head into her arms once more. "It's not fair. How come Alec gets to be happy, but me n' Logan-"

"Alec n' Rachel ain't got nothin' to do with you and Logan."

"It does if you consider how unfair the universe is." Max looked up, glaring. "I bust my ass and do _I_ ever catch a break? Do _I_ get to be with my guy? No. But Alec? Alec, who can't even _breathe_ without screwin' something up? Alec, one of the _reasons_ I have to bust my ass every week, 'cuz I'm pullin' him out of trouble? _He's_ the one that gets the fairy tale ending?"

O.C. just sat, staring at Max during her long tirade, her face impassive. When Max paused for air, Cindy shook her head. "You got serious issues." Max was already aware of that, so she chose to ignore her friend.

"I just wish somebody would tell me," Max sighed. "Why can't Logan and I be the ones that-"

"I don't know what the question is, but chances are the answer is 'virus'," Alec interrupted smoothly, his arm looped easily over Rachel's shoulders, trying to ignore the way Max had gotten all paralyzed and silent. "Now, who wants to play a game of pool? Eh, Maxie? Whaddaya say?"

She was looking back and forth between the smiling faces of the happy couple and finally she managed an unbelievable, "IIII'm beat…" Max shook herself out of her frozen unhappiness and glanced away. "I think I'll head home," She slid off the stool, and refused to look at anyone as she pulled her jacket off the table.

"Max," Alec frowned, his arm dropping off of his girlfriend's shoulders. Maybe her approval did mean a lot to him… But she just couldn't give it to him. Maybe that's why he deserved to be happy and she didn't. 'Cuz she was a jerk.

"Is she okay?" She heard Rachel's concerned little voice, and her steps quickened as she threw her jacket on. She paused, almost reeling, when she hit the outside air, her eyes closing, her senses sucking in the calming feel of night.

A hand touched her shoulder, just briefly. Max whirled in surprise, and Alec drew away. He must have been right on her heels as she'd left. Wonder what Rachel thought about that.

"You okay?"

"Just tired," She frowned, shrugging and glancing away. "Long day. Double shift and all that."

"When has a double shift ever worn you out?" Alec asked, eyes narrowed. They stepped away from the entrance, letting some people coming down the steps pass them and enter the bar.

"Since today," She shrugged, thinking that nonchalance was easier to pull off than weary unhappiness. She leaned back into the wall, her hands digging into the warm protection of her jacket's pockets.

"Come on, Maxie, you know you can trust me. Tell me what's really bothering you," He smirked, trying to draw it out of her.

Alec never smirked at Rachel. He smiled, really smiled, but a smirk, which was as natural as breathing to him, never graced his face.

"I told you, I'm fine." She snapped. Besides. Trust him? Yeah right. He'd fleece her for her money in a second. He'd call upon her help in his newest, greatest caper in a moment... He'd abandon her for his girlfriend in an instance.

"Are you sure?" He arched an eyebrow as her anger fell back into something he could not pin. And the smirk made a comeback. "Oooh, I get it. Somebody needs to work out a little tension, right? Right?"

Alec wouldn't be caught dead throwing around his usual dirty little innuendos if Rachel was around.

Her face was stony. "How many times do I have to tell you? Nothing is wrong with me."

"Bullshit," He scoffed, dropping the teasing attitude easily.

When Rachel was around, Alec didn't cuss, either. There were lots of things Alec didn't do when Rachel was around. Quite frankly, when Alec was with Rachel, he was not Alec. He was someone else entirely. Her eyes darted quickly to him, and then away, and she chewed her lip in thought. Maybe that's why she didn't like the brunette.

"Spill the beans, Maxie," His voice was dry. "What's got your gears grinding at a hundred miles an hour?"

She didn't mean to tell him. It all just kind of spilled out of her. The build-up over the last few weeks... Rachel's sudden appearance. Alec slowly pulling out of her life to better fit in with Rachel's. Watching Alec be someone he's not while he was around his pretty, pretty princess... It all created a pressure too strong to bear, and, unfortunately, she found herself being honest with him as her hands fisted in her jacket and she stared up at an overcast night sky.

"Are you kidding?" Alec demanded when she finally fell silent.

"You told me to be honest," She scowled, looking back at him. "There ya go, Max being honest. I just wonder how real your relationship can be when-"

"That's the most hypocritical thing I've ever heard out of your mouth," He argued. "And that's saying a lot, considering some of the shit you've said."

"What?!" She shoved off the wall, glaring up at him. He wasn't the only one who knew how to invade personal space.

"I mean, do you even listen to yourself when you're with Logan?" He demanded, leaning in, his breath washing across her face. "You think I'm different? You should hear you!"

When had this turned into a fight? When she opened her big, stupid mouth, probably. Her eyes narrowed and she ignored the small voice, rising to the challenge, her finger poking him brutally in the chest. "Logan and I-"

He caught her hand, squeezing it and shoving it away. "Are completely different, and you're constantly bending over backwards to fit into his world-"

"Like you're one to talk!" Max hissed, and this time she shoved at him. "Besides, you can't compare me n' Logan to you and Rachel. What we have is-"

But he caught her shove, too, holding her arms, holding her steady, against him, and his bark of laughter was sharp and cutting. "I swear to god, if you say 'real', I'll hit you, and I won't even feel bad about it."

Max scowled, her annoyance as plain on her unhappy face as it was in her tense body, held against his. Please. Like he'd ever throw a first punch, big sissy that he was.

"Jesus, Max, that is so like you!" He released her, stepping away. "How self-absorbed can you be? You think you and Logan are the only ones allowed to be in a relationship? You think you're the only person that can change for the person you love? Well, I got news for you princess-"

Her mouth dropped open. "You did _not_ just call me princess-"

"You need to grow up."

Max blinked in shock. Before the anger reclaimed her. "What?!"

"That's right," He scowled. "Grow up. Only a self-absorbed child thinks in the terms that you do. You're the only one that matters. You're the only one that knows what love is. You're the only one, blah, _fucking_, blah. In my humble opinion, _your majesty_, you need to get over yourself."

"You did not just say that!"

"You know what your problem is?" He asked. Before she could open her mouth and throw out a 'you!', he shoved on, angrily. "You're jealous." He didn't even wait for her angry retort, just whirled on his heel, stalking back into the bar.

"Jealous? Of you?! Yeah, right!" She shouted after him, ignoring the stares she got from the people exiting the bar, the ones that Alec had all but shoved around.

Max only stared after him for a few short moments. That was all she could take before even the night air made her claustrophobic, and she had to move, had to get out of here. Had to go somewhere where no one could find her. Somewhere was the Space Needle, because Alec was too annoyed to look for her, and no one else ever went there anyway.

The air up on the Seattle monument was strong, thin, frightening if you weren't prepared. A storm was rolling in and strong winds whipped her hair about. It complemented her tumultuous thoughts nicely.

Don't get her wrong. It's not that she wanted Alec for herself. It's just that she hadn't been prepared to share him. For months it'd been Max he looked to for guidance, Max he went to when he really needed help… but even then, thanks to their strained dealings and even shakier relationship, he'd kept her at arms length. Then all of a sudden, along comes this girl, who doesn't even know him, not really, and he's letting her in to every private little detail of his life? He's singing _her_ praises, after everything _Max_ had done for him?

And she hated to admit it, but part of it really was that she was jealous… jealous that Alec got to be happy but here she was, dateless again on a Friday night… because being dateless is better than hangin' out with someone who pulls on rubber gloves when they see you comin'.

She was no better, no clearer, making the long climb down the Space Needle, it was suicidal to stay up there once the wind really picked up, than she had been when she'd made the climb up. The wind whipping around her as she rode home helped, though, and it sliced into her confusion, blowing away some of the jumbles of thought that circled and circled and never went anywhere. Maybe… maybe she was being selfish. Maybe Rachel was a good match for Alec. It's not like Alec was Max's _best_ friend. What stake did she have in it if he did change into someone unrecognizable? Maybe she should let him become someone classier and couther and (arguably) better and whaaat is Rachel Berrisford doing outside my building?

The motorcycle slowed to a stop next to the young woman waiting by the chauffered car, and Max stared impassive through her dark riding glasses, face like stone. A crack of thunder rolled over their heads.

"Hi, Max." Rachel smiled.

"Rachel," It grated. Oh, how it grated.

"Do you have a minute?"

Max leaned back into her seat, arms folding across her chest. Maybe she was feeling a little bit guilty, 'cuz she figured... maybe she owed this to Alec. Maybe Rachel deserved a chance. Maybe she could try. "I guess."

"Do you think…" Rachel glanced around, a touch nervously, at the debris littering the area, the chain fence, the graffitied concrete, and the squatter, warming his hands by a trash fire. She looked up quickly, at a night beyond black and another roll of thunder. "I mean... the storm..."

"We can go upstairs," Max sighed, finally lifting herself off her bike, keeping it on so she could walk it into the building.

"You're not going to leave your motorcycle out here?" Rachel asked in an attempt at conversation as she followed closely behind, clutching at her purse.

"Not if I want to see it tomorrow." Max smiled humorlessly. Must be nice to live in a gated compound, patrolled by security, protected from the squalor and the 'every man for himself' nature of the world by Daddy's money. But Max controlled the thoughts, and the devil on her shoulder that told her to make them verbal, and reminded herself that she was trying to be nice. Right.

The ride in the heavy duty service elevator was quiet, and Max tried to ignore the undeniable tinge of awkwardness by hiding behind the driving glasses and keeping her face hard and impassive, unaware of how incredibly intimidating she could be. The elevator stopped at her floor with its predictable jerk, and she pretended that watching Rachel's face go white didn't bring her a small measure of joy.

The apartment was dark, so Cindy must still be out. Max flipped on the light before pushing her motorcycle into the living room, and had to turn and frown after she'd put down the bike's kickstand, finally pulling her glasses from her face in annoyance. "Close the door, will ya?"

Rachel paused in her wide-eyed gawking to turn and gently shut the front door. It's not like the place was a pig sty. So what, she still had some of her laundry hanging above her sink. Who cares that they hadn't done the dishes this morning? Maybe Rachel was looking all wide-eyed because the place was small, dingy, but hey, it was bigger, and better lit, than Alec's and surely Rachel had seen the inside of Alec's place plenty of times. Max turned, fairly yanking her keys from the bike, shoving them into her pants, before roughly pulling the leather jacket from her body. She tossed it on the sofa. Normally she hung it up, normally she was kind of a neat freak, but oddly, with Rachel around, she didn't mind being obnoxiously messy. The urge to swear and spit was there too, but those were easier to control.

"Nice place," Rachel tried.

"For illegal loft-housing, it's not so bad," Max replied, with a hint of vindictive glee.

Rachel's eyes widened. "You mean… you're not supposed to be living here?"

Max couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't be outright aggressive and mean, so she just shrugged. She did tack on a, "Haven't you seen Alec's place? Nobody who works at Jam Pony can really afford to pay rent."

Rachel glanced away, and for the first time, Max began to wonder if Rachel and Alec had ever…. I mean… they had to have… y'know… This was Alec they were talkin' about…

Rachel's voice pulled her from the thoughts, dropping her into the icy waters of surprise. "You don't like me, do you?"

"W-what?!" Max turned away quickly, peeling off her leather gloves. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe I'm not transgenic, but I'm not stupid, Max." Rachel was standing tall, her chin in the air, when Max glanced furtively over her shoulder. "And it's okay. I don't mind."

She didn't mind?!

"The only person's opinion that matters is Alec's." Rachel continued.

"Well, I'd give you props for self-confidence," Max replied dryly, turning to face her nemesis, stuffing her gloves in her back pocket. "But now I'm kind of wondering what the hell you're doing here if my opinion is so worthless."

"You're Alec's friend," Rachel frowned, like it was obvious. "So we have to make an effort for his sake."

"I let you in, didn't I?" Max shrugged, leaning into the side of the couch, arms folding crossly.

"I meant when he's around," Rachel's expression tipped into a scowl just for a moment. "Whatever you said to him at the bar has got him all out of sorts. He hardly said two words to me and he _left_ me there."

He'd done what?! Max shook her head, and her bitchy mouth operated independently of her stuttering brain. "Well, you had Daddy's driver waiting outside, didn't you? It's not like Alec stranded you."

"That's not the point."

Then what was the point? Was the point that Rachel wanted to be BFF's for Alec's sake? Something feminine and knowing in Max's gut told her otherwise.

"I know," Max's brown eyes were canny as they refocused and her voice came out as an accusation. "You're not really here trying to mend bridges are you? You're too nice to come out and say it, but you want me to back off." When Rachel started in surprise, Max straightened with a laugh. "Maybe I didn't go to private school, Rachel, but I'm not stupid. _Transgenic_, remember?"

Rachel had brought it up first, their different heritages shouldn't bother her now. But it did, and Max watched, almost fascinated as Rachel turned white, then pink, then haughty and high-class.

"I think it would be best." Rachel finally nodded, her nose still a little too high up in the air. "Alec _loves_ me, Max. If you were really his friend you'd leave him alone and let him be happy."

If Alec loves you so much, Max wanted to ask, then why does he care what I think of you? Why are you trying to get me away from him?

"I got news for you, girly," Max cocked her head to the side, not even botherin' to expend the energy it'd take to straighten from her lean. "Alec _is_ my friend. We've been through a lot (most of which didn't reflect positively on him and that Max wasn't fixin' to tell her). So, let's get one thing straight, right now." Somewhere in the city, a cat hissed as a fight broke out. "I'm not going to walk away from him because his current girlfriend, one in a _looong_ line of many, let me assure you, is feeling a little threatened." Her lips curled into a hard smile.

Rachel's eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, and ohmigod, was the candy corn princess gonna show some claws? "Listen, you-"

Whatever it was that Max was supposed to listen to, it was cut short by the front door opening and O.C. pausing in the threshold, her face twisted in surprise.

"Rachel? What'choo doin' here?"

Rachel started to stutter something, but Max saw a golden opportunity to get the girl the hell out of her hair. She arched one cool eyebrow. "Rachel just came by to have a little chat. And now she's leaving. Aren't you, Rachel?"

Rachel stared at Max a long, silent moment, and finally nodded and turned, slipping past O.C. without another word. Not even a goodbye. How rude, Max snorted to herself.

"What was that about?" O.C. asked as she shut the door behind the younger woman.

"You don't even wanna know." Max rolled her eyes, and pushed herself away from the couch. She came back a few seconds later, like Cindy had known she would, and said, insulted, "She just tried to tell me to back off of Alec,"

"Back off?" Cindy made a face. "As in, 'why don't you back off him' in a 'be nice' sort of way, or as in a 'back up off my man, 'fore I pop ya skank ass' kind of way?"

"Second one," Max scowled. "But without the use of slang."

"Girl does have some impeccable grammar." Cindy shook her head.

Rachel Berrisford was young and sweet. Rachel Berrisford was the nicest person alive so long as she got her way. Rachel Berrisford had been brought up as a spoiled little princess in an enclosed little world and now mistakenly thought she was the queen of Seattle.

Rachel Berrisford was goin' down.

Somehow. Max just didn't know how yet. She'd get to it eventually. Only one thing was certain. Nobody dictated to Max who her friends were. Nobody.

Max's plan to wrest away Seattle dominion would have to wait, however.

Really, it was probably just coincidence that their illegal tenement building got raided by the cops the very next day. If Walter, Kendra's fiancée, hadn't stopped by with a warning, Max and O.C. might never have gotten half their clothes out in time. They might have been escorted from the building in handcuffs. Instead, they showed up on Alec's doorstep, trashbags full of personals in hand, and pushed past him when he sleepily opened the door. His eyes had narrowed when they fell on Max, but maybe he was mostly over their fight from before, because he didn't push them back out the door once they were in.

"If Rachel doesn't mind, of course," Max interjected, angrily, when O.C. got finished tellin' Hot Boy that they were staying with him.

"Rachel never comes over here anyway," Alec scowled at her. Sore subject, apparently, and Max backed down, 'cuz she wouldn't put it past him to kick _her_ out, at least. Then she'd have to stay with Logan, contaminating everything with her stupid, virus-y skin.

When O.C. was in the bedroom, goin' through her stuff, Max leaned next to Alec at the kitchen bar, frowning softly. "Rachel told me you left out of Crash early last night."

"When'd you talk to Rachel?" Alec asked, avoiding the unspoken question, 'cuz it was easier to do that than to own up to the fact that her words had spun him. He wasn't really different when he was with Rach. Was he? He just- Plus, he liked play-fighting, but real fighting with Max was kind of painful and beer had lost interest for him after their words. Max rolled her eyes when she realized he wasn't about to be honest, and went back to his bedroom to go through her clothes and mentally inventory what she'd have to replace.

After a raid, it usually took about two weeks until the cops collected enough bribes and laid off squatters' housing again. Two long weeks with Alec (and O.C.) in his small apartment. She could deal. Alec seemed to think she should only take about two minutes in the bathroom, Max seemed to think that cartoons at seven in the morning was a little unnecessary, and O.C. seemed to think that all the bickering that Max and Alec did was hella annoying, but for the most part, they all managed to get along.

The nights that O.C. went home with her current chickadee were the worst. Without a mediator, they hardly talked to each other, worried what kind of argument might erupt. Worse, it was like they were unsure of what to do with their limbs when alone, keeping them carefully away from each other, pretending like they couldn't notice the awkward avoidance when they were usually all about grabbing and popping and pushing and touching. Thankfully, a week passed in almost no time at all, and only one more week of weirdness before she could be back in her own bed… if it was still there. Cops had a bad habit of making off with whatever wasn't bolted down. And whatever the cops didn't get, the vultures picked through till there wasn't hardly nothin' left.

It was a Saturday when things came to a head. It was Max's day off. O.C. was workin'. Alec had wheedled Normal into letting him spend some quality time with his sugary sweet lollipop princess… of darkness, which means that Max had the apartment to herself. She found his stash of cash right off, thumbing through the one hundred dollar bills in disinterest. She had more than him, but probably 'cuz he was always spending his money on co-workers and Rachel. Usually she only spent money on her bike or on leads for the cure, which depleted her stockpile quickly, but right now her bike was up to date and Manticore scientists were keeping low profiles. She went through his cupboards next, but, predictably, they were almost bare. Boy lived on take-out. The TV had never held much interest for her, and she already knew his water heater didn't have the life needed to pump a tub full of hot water. So she filled it halfway up, set five large pots of water on his stove to boil (one on each burner with one in the middle to catch some of that runoff heat) and grabbed a magazine to pass the time.

Maybe her bike wasn't that up to date after all. She was kicking her feet, eyes narrowed in intense interest when the bedroom door slammed open and her legs dropped back to the bed, her head whipped around, over her shoulder and-

"What?! Alec!"

"Max?" Alec seemed frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide.

She sat up quickly, swinging her legs off the bed and grabbing for her jeans, pooled on the floor. "What are you doing home?" She'd thought that she'd have the place to herself for at least a good three more hours, so she'd started stripping, waiting for the water to boil, but she hadn't made it past her pants before she'd gotten distracted and- Her face went steely, her cheeks pink.

Alec, oddly enough, looked stony, the muscles in his jaw working overtime as she stuffed her legs into her pants. "Gonna go catch a movie. Needed to grab some cash."

"Relax," She rolled her eyes, standing up, pulling the jeans up quickly as she did. "I didn't take your precious money," helpfully adding, as she paused, "I have more than you, anyway."

He did relax a bit then, so that was probably what was bothering him. And not the fact that he'd just gotten a good look of barely there blue underwear and ass. Right. "Yeah, whatever." He walked over to her, strangely intense, and she fell still, her hands dropping away from the open fly of her jeans as he stood in front of her, looking down as she stared up. He frowned, she didn't know what expression to adopt, and finally he reached around her, stooping slightly to pull open the nightstand drawer and grab the wad of rolled up bills. She released the pent up breath. Only Alec would keep his money close to where he slept, practically in the open, no less. She kept hers in the freezer because it amused her.

He straightened slowly, his fingers tightening around the bills. His face went flinty again and she almost leapt out her skin as his sneaky hand, the one she hadn't been paying attention to, glanced across the top of her jeans, barely skimming against soft, sensitive skin. Forget jumping, she almost fell to the floor when he reached down and _zipped her pants for her, _slowly, the noise loud in the silence,as loud as the sudden rush of air as her breath was forced from her lungs. He held on to that small zipper, watching as her eyes darkened in something that couldn't be anger, because he'd seen anger before and this wasn't it. Anger burned brightly, this was something dark and deep and... He swallowed.

"XYZ," He forced a grin, stepping away, and the release of tension from her ramrod straight body would have made her slump if sudden annoyance hadn't kept her upright.

"What?" She demanded.

"Examine Your Zipper." He grinned.

"You're an idiot," She scowled, turning away from him quickly, buttoning her pants in a sudden show of modesty.

"Hey!" He defended. "…I'm a loveable idiot,"

She rolled her eyes at the petulant, child-like tone. "Whatever. Besides, isn't Rachel waiting on you?" Max reminded, still scowling, as she turned back to him.

"Oh crap," Alec pulled out his phone, glancing down at the display. He shoved it back into his pocket, turning... but he paused as he was almost out the door. "Hey Max? Do you think that you could maybe… y'know… never take off your pants?"

"What?" She demanded.

"Nothing," Alec sighed, stepping out the room before _she_ could finally be the one to ask _him_ if he was, quote-unquote, "frustrated". Just to be vindictive, as soon as he was out the door, she was undoing the zipper that long, nimble fingers had tugged up (deep breath, 'cuz there was nothin' there to be all weird about except for the fact that she hadn't kicked his ass to kingdom come) and she was shoving down denim. And looked up, hair flipping over her shoulder, as a wooden floorboard creaked when he stepped back in.

"Hey, I forgot to ask if you'd-"

Oh come on.

They stared wide-eyed at each other, her pants halfway down her thighs, exposing that bright, lacy blue material once more.

"Now you're just being vindictive," He scowled.

"W-what?! Will you get out of here?!"

"It's my apartment," He argued, keeping his eyes firmly on her face as she yanked her pants up once more. God, this wasn't an elevator service, he needed to go already. But it was like he couldn't help himself; his eyes dipped down to her open fly, that hint of blue, and was that his voice, rumbling like that? "Need help with that?"

"V-very funny." Fingers slid up a zipper, buttoned up her jeans, and he looked up, focusing again on her face. What was that expression on his face, that secret in his eyes? She couldn't place either. His mouth opened-

A slight knock on the front door, and Rachel's voice, "Alec?", startled them both. The front door creaked open as he whirled and trotted quickly into the living room. Rachel's brown head was peeping around the corner of the kitchen/front entrance wall and she smiled when she saw him, stepping more surely into his apartment.

"Rachel? What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"I followed you, silly. Got bored waiting downstairs." Rachel rolled her eyes, charming. Then glanced away. "I thought… maybe it was time I got a look at your home."

Alec froze. Max, in the bedroom, did the same.

"Now's not really a good time," Alec's voice was tense, and Max wondered if Alec had told his girlfriend that she was staying with him.

Rachel's face colored. "I just… I don't… I just wanted to see your place, Alec. I don't want-" Her voice trailed off as she noticed the pots of water on the stovetop. "Are you making something?" She asked in confusion, because they were supposed to go see a movie.

Alec desperately hoped that Max would keep her well-formed ass securely in the bedroom, but she just had to lean in the doorway, didn't she?

"No, that's me," Max only did it because a small tiny part of her wondered if Rachel hadn't called an anonymous tip into the police, inadvertently reminding them that it was time to collect on their extortion money. "Taking a bath," She cocked her head to the side. "'Cuz you know my place got raided by the cops,"

"No," Rachel said stiffly, her head swinging to Alec, and she glared prettily. "I didn't know that."

Alec could swear that he heard the hiss of cats, but he was probably just imagining things as two women glared at him, like this was somehow _his_ fault.

They left for their movie, and Max kicked out of her pants, and threw off her shirt for good measure, and hah, take that. Her water was done boiling anyway.

Alec came home, tense and angry. His girlfriend probably hadn't come right out and said it, but undoubtedly she wanted Max out of his apartment.

The door hit the wall, and Alec was glowering in his bedroom doorway. "Just wanted to say thanks for that stunning display of cold silence I had to sit through. For _three_ _hours_."

Max blinked, lowering the magazine. "What?"

Alec's eyes flicked over her in annoyance. "And what did I tell you about pants?"

"This is my pajamas," She scowled, her knees drawing protectively up towards her t-shirt clad chest. Alec's eyes flicked down to her crossed ankles, the hint of hidden black panties behind them, and her cool words had his gaze swinging back upwards. "You don't like it, leave."

"What?!" He demanded, "This is my apartment!" He stalked to the bed and she swung her legs off so she could better glare up at him and why was fighting always so close quarters with them? Probably to expedite the rapid descent into physical violence.

"If Queen Rachel wants me out of your place, just come out and say it. Stop bringing my pants into it." Max scowled up at him.

"Maybe _I_ want you out of my apartment, did you ever consider that?" He scowled back. She stood and shoved at him and her "Fine," shouted right into his face, could have deafened an ordinary man. Then he shoved her back and it descended into its usual wrestling match, and it was almost predictable the way they tumbled onto the bed, because, really, all their fighting held a hint of sexual charge, didn't it? The weight of him, heavy and solid, started a chain reaction that she was hard pressed to ignore and it was less predictable the way his eyes squeezed shut, burying his nose behind her ear and sucking her in, when she unexpectedly arched up into him in a movement that didn't much resemble wrestling.

They fell absolutely still. Someone on the outside, lookin' in, might have known it was coming, but for them, that sudden shift, it was an unexpected revelation into a previously unheeded world. Her gasped name against her neck, "Max?", and her fingers still pressing into his shoulders. His name punctuated by a shaky exhale of breath, "Alec.", and his glance down as he pulled away and a large hand slid up the curve of her hip. His hand bunched in the green material of her t-shirt, sliding it up, the skin of her side prickling as it met the cool air.

Everything was hesitant, primed, and she was sure that if their lips were to touch, everything would explode into fire. He sat back, between her knees, staring down at her, solemn, and she, she didn't know what she wanted, but she was relatively certain that if he _didn't_ kiss her, she'd never forgive him. He released his death grip on the sheets at her side, sliding the other half of her shirt up, just below her breasts. She sucked in much needed breath as the palm of his hand moved against her ribcage, around to her back, and he lifted her up, away from the mattress, his hand sliding down now and maybe this, this limited skin to skin contact, as her head fell back and her eyes fell shut, would have to be enough. She leaned back into her forearms, supporting her own weight, but he kept that one hand on the small of her back, the other drawing back to rest against her knee, move solidly down the inside her thigh, squeezing her flesh, and he was almost shaking, choking, "Oh God… I want…" and what could she say, other than a soft, "I know."

Was it cheating? They didn't do anything, but there was something heavy in the encounter. He collapsed back into her, and she fell back into the bed, her hands sliding through his hair, and they just lay there until a floorboard creaked and Cindy was frozen in the doorway, back from her long shift.

Two heads had whipped towards her as she made a little noise of shock and surprise, and two pairs of wide eyes blinked as she backed out, waving her hands in warding. The sound of the front door slamming had them slowly looking back at each other. Alec pulled away from her and whatever it was that they'd just done or not done or something.

When Cindy came back, Alec was gone, and Max snapped, defensive, before her friend could say a word, "We didn't do anything."

"Sure 'nough," Cindy shook her head. "But when I walked in, I ain't never seen anybody lookin' as tore up about _not _doin' something as you two were."

Everything after that was carefully orchestrated, a choreographed dance of avoidance. Helped that they were both working, and he was dating, and she spent a few nights out, taking care of Eyes Only stuff. Their overall silence, so different from their normal bickering, was strange enough that even Normal turned to Alec and asked, "You and Miss Muffet have a fight?" Alec's vehement protest caught Max's attention from across the room, and he happened to glance over and their eyes caught. She booked it to the bathroom as Alec watched and Normal asked, "Are you sure?" like he was lookin' for an excuse to be mad at Max. She hadn't been late all week and he needed a reason to fire her. He did it once a week, after all.

"Positive," Alec said, pushing away from the counter, and Normal pretended like he didn't see Alec follow Max into the bathroom. O.C. just shook her head, hoping they'd finally be able to talk this bitch out.

Max, leaning over the sink, glanced up in surprise.

"We didn't do anything wrong," Alec said simply.

"Then why do I feel so guilty?" She snapped.

Because as much as Max didn't like Rachel, she was still a good person, and she didn't deserve this… Didn't deserve Alec walking over to Max, eyes dark, weighing, and Max turning, gripping at the sink. Or the way he leaned into her, breathing in her hair, his hands on her upper arms, or the way she released the sink, clutching at the underside of his forearms, her eyes closing and her breath hitching.

"Rachel," Normal's eyes were wide, and he scatched nervously at his neck. "What are you doing here?"

"I was going to take Alec out to lunch. Is he out on a run?"

Jam Pony descended into an awkward silence 'cuz there wasn't a person in there that hadn't seen Alec follow Max into the women's restroom.

Cindy's eyes darted to the bathroom, and she slowly started edging her way along the line of lockers towards the heavy blue door. Damn it, Max, why'd you have to wait till he got a real boo before you opened your damn eyes?

Alec's hands slid up, over her shoulders, and down her back, molding her to his body. Somehow she had managed to wrap her arms tightly around him and she wasn't entirely sure if she would let him go this time. She looked up as he looked down and Cindy slipped in.

"Y'all owe me so, so big," Cindy scowled, plastering herself against the blue door, the defender at the gate, the faithful steward of the castle. "Hot Boy, get your ass out that window before Rachel follows the silence and the sneaky glances in here."

"W-what?!" Alec released Max quickly and Max almost scowled, or she would have if her heart hadn't started working overtime.

"Your girlfriend," Cindy stressed the word, pushing away from the door, "is outside, looking for you, and all of Jam Pony is lookin' like a hot bed of guilt. Any second now, Normal is gonna cave and tell her you in here and-"

"And I'll wonder why," Rachel frowned from the doorway.

All eyes were on the bathroom when Sketchy came back from his run.

"What's goin' on?" Sketchy leaned into the counter, next to Alec and Cindy.

"Stay out of this Normal!"

Sketchy's eyebrows rose into his hairline. "That sounded like Max,"

Normal abruptly got shoved out of the ladies' bathroom. "That's coming out of your paycheck, Missy!" He shouted, turning to find all eyes upon him. "Get back to work!" And he stomped his way back to the safety of his cage.

"Rachel caught Alec and Max talkin' in the bathroom," Cindy said blandly. "And some words was said."

Alec frowned. "Rachel called Max a tramp." Sketchy winced, letting out a, "Ooo, that can't be good."

Cindy shook her head, "Then Max called Rachel the self-righteous queen of Seattle,"

"Gettin' worse," Sketchy nodded.

"After which, Rachel took off the boxing gloves and went for the old-fashioned slap." Alec shook his head. Is it bad that he'd gone on the defensive for Max? Rachel had seemed to think so when it'd been Alec that had bodily stepped between them, frowning angrily, and not O.C. It was probably good he had though, 'cuz he could feel the pressure building behind him and Max had just about lost it. It had descended into shouting after that, and O.C. and Alec realized they weren't much needed anymore as two major personalities went head-to-head.

"What did I tell you?" Normal scowled at Alec, rubbing at his bruising chest. That girl had some push to her. "Inter-office romance-"

"Hey, Rachel is blowing this all out of proportion! There is nothing remotely romantic about me and Max!" Alec protested, straightening from his lean over the counter to wave his hands in denial.

"Riiight," Normal frowned, and what the hell was that about? And what was with O.C.'s knowing smirk and Sketchy's snort.

"What?" He demanded.

"Please, Alec, who you think you foolin'?" Cindy pushed up her sleeves, crossing her arms.

"You and Missy Miss have been dancing around it since you first stepped in here," Normal added on.

"The man has a valid point," Sketchy nodded.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" The girl scowled, but at least they weren't shouting any more. "Why can't you go make him miserable and leave us alone?!"

Max wasn't givin' an inch, though. "Like I would let Alec be corrupted into someone he's not by your subtle little niceties."

"What are you talking about? Alec and I-"

"Stop talking about him like you know him." Max threw her hands up in disgust and exasparation. "You don't know him, Rachel, you don't know anything about him."

"And you do?"

"More than you, sister, believe me." Her head cocked to the side, and what she said next, wasn't meant to be mean, it was just supposed to be honest. "Don't you get it? He doesn't love you. He loves the _idea _of you. What you represent. You're supposed to be the untouchable perfection; the thing he wants but can't ever have."

When Rachel didn't say anything right away, Max added. "Trust me, I know what it is to put someone up on a pedestal, worship the ground they walk on, treat them like royalty. You can fool yourself for a while, but eventually you realize that it's not really love. Especially once the person you put up there comes down from the pedestal and you realize you're not entirely sure what to do with them." Max's eyes went distant as she remembered that window of opportunity she had missed right before Rachel Berrisford had thrown her life into upheaval.

Rachel stared at her for a long moment and finally said, "You're a soulless bitch," and Max's mouth almost dropped open, and she almost stomped over there and punched perfect Rachel Berissford in her perfect nose, but perfect Rachel Berrisford was still talking. "Who is it that you really think he has on a pedestal? Me or you?"

Perfect Rachel Berrisford started to stomp out on perfect little heels, but Max's voice stopped her.

"Just to be clear, it was you that called the cops, wasn't it?"

Perfect little Rachel Berrisford; not so perfect after all, as her face colored in shame. She stormed out of the bathroom, leaving Max to shake her head. Man, the little upstart had actually given her a run for her money. But come on; there was no dethroning the master.

Cindy and Sketchy booked it when they saw the fiery angel of anger descending upon them, Reagan Ronald retreated back into his office, and it was just the two of them, staring each other down.

"Do you love me?" Rachel asked.

Alec stared at her a bit impassive. He'd thought he did. And then she'd woken up and she'd been with him in the real world, only not a part of it, more of an upper class outsider looking into his low class world. Maybe he should have tried harder. Maybe he should have given up who he'd become and turned back into Simon Lehane, lover of art and music, a man that never presses the advantage, and prefers wine over beer, and books over TV, and-

"I don't think I do," Alec said softly, and even though he was being honest, and it was better in the long run, he felt like the biggest asshole in the world when her eyes teared up and she rushed past him.

"Well, it's official," He said as he watched her rush out of Jam Pony. "I'm the meanest jerk alive."

"At least you were honest," Her voice came from behind. He turned slowly, and she was looking down, at her beeper, at 6 missed pages that had her chewin' her lip in thoughtfulness.

"I guess." Alec scowled, pulling her pager from the clip on her belt, and tossing it behind the desk. "Hey!" Max protested.

"While we're on the subject of honesty-" Alec started.

"I'll tell Logan tonight, okay? God." Max scowled.

Alec blinked. "I was going to say I'm not expecting anything from you." His smirk started slowly and built and became something wicked and promising. "Tonight, huh? Not wasting any time, are you Maxie?"

"Shut up," Max's scowl deepened. "It has nothing to do with you! Just… this thing with Rachel… and with you… It made me realize-"

"How incredibly horny you are?" Alec grinned.

"No! I just want-"

"To get laid?"

"Seriously, Alec, not sleeping with you." She turned on her heel, trotting quickly out of the building, Alec quick to follow her.

"Well, why not?"

Cindy shook her head, her eyes following them out. "And Queen Max is back on top; life returns to normal."

Sketchy glanced at Cindy. "Normal? Are you kidding? Ten bucks says he comes to work tomorrow covered in hickeys. Max is gonna need to work all that possessiveness out of her system."

"Ten bucks, huh?" Cindy thought about it for a moment, before finally shrugging. "No, Cindy gonna hafta replace some clothes when she finally get back to her place. Can't afford to be throwin' away money like that." She frowned. "And while I'm at it, need to call my sweet chickadee. Ain't no way I spendin' the night at Alec's tonight."

"Wise decision," Sketch nodded sagely.


	12. R

A/N: Blood Gulch (snickers) 10 cool points to everyone who gets it.

* * *

R is for Red

Rated T

* * *

Time changes us all, but even if she hadn't had a perfect memory, she'd still always remember the first time they met.

It was a training exercise. She was fourteen, he was fifteen. They were to be driven out to a box canyon in the middle of nowhere, a training ground affectionately termed by the older X-4's as Blood Gulch. It was supposed to be the Reds versus the Blues. None in her unit even breathed as they stood in formation, waiting to load onto the bus, as Lydecker walked steely-eyed down the line. A simple game of capture the flag, with one slight twist; middle of nowhere, no food, no supplies, no _pick up_, until one team calls in the win.

Eyes had flicked about in surprise at that. Abandonment in the wilderness? Lydecker must have caught a hint of that wariness because his already hard face had descended into stone.

Protest is not an option. You'll do as I trained you to do… and I expect you to do it well.

Looking back on it, Lydecker must have thought he was such a hard ass. Why _would_ they protest? And even if he _hadn't_ tried to 'inspire' them with squinty eyes and rough tones, they still would have done their best. They were young soldiers, still trying to prove themselves, and it was the first off-site exercise they'd been allowed on since some kind of training mishap back in 2009. (Don't ask her what, because honestly, she _still_ doesn't completely remember. All she remembers is fear and bone-chilling cold and waking up six months later with a haze where memory should be.) Whatever kind of accident had occurred, it'd taken years for the system to place any trust in them again… years they weren't going to throw away the first time Manticore threw them a bone.

The blue bandana tied around her arm gave her a sense of pride. She was confident that her unit would prevail, that nothing could tear the fabric of her family; after all, not even PsyOps had destroyed their close bond, the lasers couldn't completely wipe the love from their minds. And yes, she knew her memory had been tampered with, those hazy recollections of cold terror were sure proof of it… but what did it matter that she couldn't recall some accident? They were _alive_, together, and that was all that mattered.

Or so she'd thought back then. At fourteen, there was still a kind of naiveté about her, she hadn't really learned the depths her hatred could take, hadn't learned that there are other kinds of deaths, worse ones, deaths of the spirit that you have to actually live with and remember. Back then, she'd thought that being alive, being with her family, was enough. He was the one that would eventually teach her otherwise.

That day, so long ago… she could still feel her heart, ringing so clearly in her ears, the rush of excitement as they loaded onto the bus. This, _this_ was their chance to prove themselves, show all of Manticore, all the trainers that watched them so closely, all the administrators that called them disposable, and even Lydecker, who kept them closely monitored in their own special compound, only ever allowing them contact with other units during field exercises, as if their unfortunate taint might spread…this was their chance to show them all that not only were they true soldiers, they were the _best_. This was her _family_ and that close connection gave her a surge, a knowing, a confidence in their abilities. Max _knew _that they were going to win…

But Tinga and Zack immediately got to arguing about who was going to be in charge. Syl was shooting calf eyes at Krit. Jace was whispering to Eva about something, probably a boy, and their stage whispers kept intruding on her thoughts. Her favorite brother, Ben, was staring moodily out the window as they were bused to the staging ground, who knew what he was thinking. Perhaps he was praying. Zane was staring at the metal ceiling, probably trying to think of a way to get out of doing any work again. Everyone else was asleep.

So much for planning, stratagems, or anything like that. Looks like they were gonna try and capture the flag the old fashioned way; by winging it. Like usual. …

Still… they were gonna win. They _always_ won. It was like their bid for atonement, beating every unit they could, every chance they got.

But they hadn't been expecting…

Two concrete outposts, two flags, with a heavily wooded area between. A couple of guards left behind, Max included. Syl and Krit disappeared out of the back exit to take a look around, leaving Max to wait alone for her teammates to come back with the win. She was bored, sitting cross-legged on the ground, staring up at the limp material of the blue flag, lookin' as listless in the hot, still air as she felt, when she heard a couple of grunts from out back. She shot to her feet, but relaxed when a familiar face stepped in.

He smiled slowly, unaware that at fifteen, he wasn't quite the lady-killer he thought himself to be. "Well, _he_-lloooo."

"What are you doing here?" She demanded, ignoring his odd opening, "You're supposed to be in with the forward scouting team,"

He shrugged and said with complete candor, "Scouting's all done, we're moving in for the capture." He sauntered across concrete, his eyes peering around before falling on her once more, lighting in an expression she wasn't quite sure of. She shifted in confusion.

The black tanktop felt sticky, but nowhere near as bad as the thick, green, camouflage bottoms or worse, the dark, heavy boots. The blue bandana fastened around her arm had been considered for removal and use as a sweat mop, but pride hadn't let her. Her hair, still growing out, was pulled back in a short ponytail, and it stuck uncomfortably to the back of her neck whenever it got too close.

Ben, in comparison, looked pretty collected. Max grumbled to herself. The shade of the trees had probably provided some relief from the unforgiving summer sun, not like this concrete bunker that seemed to amplify the heat, turn the flag area into some kind of sauna. Her eyes fell on the pale skin of his skinny bicep and she frowned in confusion.

"What happened to your bandana?" She demanded. He glanced down at his bare arm and finally shrugged.

"Snagged on some branches, so I got rid of it," He was getting closer, and the closer he got the more she was shifting, wondering why her mind kept fritzing; kept insisting that something was wrong.

Zane stepped in, glancing around. His gaze fell upon Ben and he rolled his eyes.

"Come on, stop flirting and hurry it up. I wanna go home."

Flirting? Max started. Ben would never- she turned to see hazel eyes, glinting in playfulness.

Her brain would crow in triumph, _see_, _told _you something was wrong, when he suddenly lunged forward, his hands curled around her arms, over that blue bandana, and his lips pressed against hers, hard and fast with an undeniable tinge of youth and awkwardness. Max's eyes widened as her first kiss was stolen from her, and she gaped as he pulled away, smirking. Then his fist crashed into the side of her face and everything went black.

Red team had worked quickly and efficiently; in the year that they'd been together they hadn't lost an exercise yet, and they weren't planning on starting anytime soon. Renfro had only told them this; capture the flag, because no one's coming to get you until you do. They'd determined on the bus what the parties would be made up of, and as soon as the vehicle came to a halt, the scouts were gearing up to go. Soon as the doors were open, they were running, fleet-footed, through the trees, towards the Blues' base.

When the scouts came back with the surprising news, most of the blue team consisted of their _twins_, the first order 494 had given was to ditch the red bandanas. Second order was for those that didn't have a twin within the Reds to take the flag out of the bunker that made a target out of it and pull it further back, keep it hidden. The rest of the unit had systematically ambushed the forward scouts; familiar faces making it easy to get in close. They avoided the retrieval teams by sticking to the edges of the wooded area, not taking the most direct path. The Blues would be in for a surprise anyway when they got to Red base and didn't find the flag just waiting to be snatched up by their greedy little fingers. It would take time for them to regroup. Half the team would probably start sweeping the sprawling woods for the missing flag, the other half would probably self-assuredly swagger back to home base, halfway convinced that one of their scouts had jumped the gun and already stolen the prize for them…

Which left 494 and 567 plenty of time to take out the two transgenics making out near the back entrance of Blue base. Blonde 567 had kept a lookout as 494 had went in for the capture… and was faced with a much more interesting version of 453; a sweaty version, one that didn't seem quite as cold, as closed off. One that his fifteen year old body was entirely too attracted too, considering the fact he'd known the girl's twin for over a year. He felt kind of guilty for putting her out, but all's fair in love and war or _something _like that. The blue flag was run back through the woods and while his unit was celebrating in the background, 494 called the win in to Lydecker. It'd only been four hours since they'd been dropped off.

Lydecker sounded shocked, almost unhappy.

494 wondered why… wondered if the unit they'd just thoroughly trounced had been the rumored 'Favored Ones', the closely monitored group that was supposedly Lydecker's pet project, that the rest of Manticore only over saw during in-ground exercises. Maybe they were, because Renfro, the administrator that had reshuffled rank, picking out transgenics and throwing his unit together suddenly over a year ago, seemed thoroughly pleased by the win… And everyone knew that if you locked Renfro and Lydecker in a room together they'd either kill each other or have a lot of really gross hate-sex.

Knowing now that over half his unit was made up of twins of the Favored Ones, himself included, it wouldn't surprise him to know that Renfro had arranged it that way on purpose; that this was some kind of power play, some long standing bet, just now come to fruition. Maybe she was after Lydecker's job and molding a unit better than his pet project was her ticket in.

Whatever, he didn't care, his unit had just won in an overwhelming fashion and his fifteen year old brain was pretty well pleased with itself, and even Lydecker, as cold as he was, had had to compliment the boy on his strategy. Seemed like nothing could bruise his ego, after that. Not even her hateful scowl and his tinge of guilt and her black eye when the two teams were loading into the buses in the retrieval area.

Nothing, that is, until next year, when they were all bussed back out to Blood Gulch, and the Blues took the flag in a coordinated offensive, ambushing the flag team in the back area of the canyon close to nightfall. He'd seen little of 452 in the intervening year, housed, as they were, in different barracks. Just glances here and there. She always looked a little wide-eyed when she saw him, before her face would go flinty in annoyance. He didn't know why; maybe she was just naturally foul-tempered (he wouldn't link the term 'bitchy' with her until he was seventeen and fresh out of his first Common Verbal Usage class).

For now, he was only sixteen and he was crouching down, stringing up some fishing wire that X5-600, the twin to their commander 599, had smuggled in with him between some trees. Pine needles crunched behind him and he whirled in readiness, rising to a kind of half-crouch. He relaxed, rolling his eyes, when he saw 453 scowling at him.

"453, I told you," He grunted, straightening slowly. "I. Don't. Care. You and 735 are just going to have to find a way to get along. Calling her the Asian Beast, or the Dragon, or anything else your tough little brain can come up with won't change my mind. Get back to your station."

453 started in surprise, her face twisting.

"453?"

Too late he noticed it, the angry fire burning in her eyes; a fire, a kind of spark, that 453, in her hardness, just did not possess. 452. His eyes took on an answering gleam, his mouth opened, but only a grunt would escape as her booted foot caught him right in the middle, sending him flying backwards. Irony of ironies, his foot caught on his own trap, and the wire sent him stumbling, falling backwards to the forest floor, the breath knocked from his lungs. 452 was on him in an instant, knees straddling his chest, little hands wrapped around his throat. He tried to fight her off, but he was lacking air to begin with and black spots started dancing across his eyes all too soon. He only had a moment to register that he still thought she was pretty before he slumped back into unconsciousness.

Lydecker had clued in her unit this time, they were heading back to Blood Gulch, and they were facing off with their twins, the same twins that had played them for fools the previous year. As if they hadn't been feeling bad enough, he told them not to disappoint him again. And he said it all with a low intensity that promised hell to pay if they didn't bring back a win. Apparently he had more riding on these exercises than they knew.

They didn't bother with scouts; left two guards at the flag and the rest immediately shot out of the Blue staging area. It was just her luck that she came across 494, the twin of her brother, the boy that had stolen her first kiss, the jerk that had given her a black eye, the transgenic that way too many females, some of her sisters included, whispered about. She hadn't even known he existed before last year, and then, _for a year_, it was like she saw him _everywhere _(insert melodramatic fifteen year old expression here). After the off-site maneuver, Manticore finally trusted them enough to let them out of their insular compound for more than just training exercises. And everywhere she went, she _freaking saw him_. At Mess, coming back from the training grounds, field exercises, across formations at morning drills…

Most of the time it seemed like he didn't notice her, which annoyed her even more, but sometimes he would turn suddenly and their eyes would connect and his face would lift in a smirk, and that stupid little smirk always increased her aggravation tenfold. Why did he hardly ever notice her back? Why did he have to catch her staring? How many other girls had he kissed? How many other girls did he smirk at? He probably did it on purpose; probably knew the way it made strange feelings crash through her stomach. She hated him. Knocking him on his butt and wrapping her hands around his throat had been one of the most satisfying experiences of her life.

She sat back as he slumped into unconsciousness, and she stared down at him. It was eerie; unconscious, he looked more like her brother. When he was awake there was some kind of driving force within him, some strange kind of electric spirit, that made it possible to distinguish him from 493… but knocked out… if she didn't know how completely different the two were when they were awake, she really would be creeped out. The thought brought on another. Part of her wondered, when he looked at her, did he… did he see this 453 girl, her clone, the one he'd mentioned? Was she like a sister to him? Did he regret the chaste kiss he'd pressed… she shook her head… make that, _forced_ upon her.

Max leaned down, thin fingers brushing against his eyebrow, across his high cheekbone, down, against full lips. She leaned a bit further in…

"Max! What are you doing?"

Max sat up abruptly, turning to look at Krit. "N-Nothing! I was just… making sure he was still breathing!" She glanced away.

"Uh-huh." Krit looked away, rolled his eyes. "Well, if you're done performing CPR on their commanding officer (Max started in surprise), let's go. Zack wants us to regroup six clicks from here. Time to start hunting for the flag." Krit abruptly slapped his arm, destroying the mosquito that'd been on a lookout for lunch, and stomped off, muttering of his hatred for all things woodsy and bugsy. Really, he could be such a girl, Max huffed, standing, he n' Syl were perfect for each other. They could do each other's nails. The sullen, vindictive thought was a nice distraction from the blazing embarrassment still showing on her face.

She kicked 494 in the thigh right before she left, and she hoped when he woke up, it hurt, and he knew it was her that had done it.

At seventeen, fresh out of his first CVU class, 494 amended pretty to pretty 'hot' and pretty 'bitchy'. He was still relatively sure that she'd given him that big bruise on his thigh the previous year, the one he'd woken up with and had hurt like a 'm.f.'. He'd been waiting for this week allll year long. Looked forward to it, to the glorious possibility of retribution. It hadn't been enough, the things he'd done the intervening time. Like when they were passing each other on the way to and from drills and he'd abruptly pulled the elastic band from her hair, leaving her the only one in her unit with her hair down; against regulations. She'd whipped around and scowled at him and he waved merrily as he jogged away. Pausing right before he slipped into the barracks to watch her drop to the tarmac and perform push-ups for Lydecker was almost as great as the time he beat her fair and square on the obstacle course at the inter-unit challenges, calling back little helpful inspirations to her every so often… ("ahh, too slow, 452", and "c'mon, 452, keep up", and once, "I'd probably be slow if I had those hips too," the last one earning him a rock narrowly whizzing by his head when the trainers weren't looking)…

Okay, so maybe he wasn't always nice to her… But that's what she gets for choking him into unconsciousness and (probably) kicking him in the thigh. What had _he_ ever done to warrant that kind of aggression? He admitted that he'd held a strange sort of fascination for her the first two times he'd seen her… But not anymore. He really, _really_, did _not_ like that violent tomboy.

It was like a 'gift from God.' Creeping through the forest, heading towards the Blues' base, and suddenly, there she was. Vengeance was at hand.

He tracked her and, surprisingly enough, his own twin, 493, for a quarter mile. They were talking softly, not just about this exercise, but about real missions as well (guess her team had finally started doing some unit work), and about things in general; Manticore, the outside world, their shared hatred for Monday night mystery meat. 494 followed along, silent, noting the changes now that she was sixteen, the ones he'd barely had time to catalogue in those rare moments he saw her in the intervening year. Her hair was longer, still pulled back, but hanging well below her shoulders, and that black tank top hugged her body in much more interesting ways. The blue bandana was wrapped tightly around the lean muscle of her arm, ends tucked in to create a singular, continuous appearance, and the summer heat had given her caramel skin a dewy sheen.

493 he had no interest in, except to note that his twin seemed happy to just be walking with her.

He wondered exactly how close they were. Too close for his liking, when 494 finally let himself be known by getting right up behind her and tugging her hair free from the black elastic holder (what was his fascination with her hair?) and 493 turned, frowning suddenly, and shoved him away with a scowl.

494 didn't take too well to being shoved.

At seventeen, they were still evenly matched. It'd change in the coming years, but for now, they were both lean muscle and blurred punches. 494, though… There was something different about him, Max noted again, and she was alarmed by the sudden realization that 494 would win. There was something fiery in him, some strange spark, that Ben, in his softness, just did not possess. She shoved the reaction away and told herself her brother wasn't _lesser_, he just wasn't as annoying…

But 494 laid Ben out after a few minutes and turned on her, pupils still wide, focus still narrowed, body still singing from the fight. Every instinct for survival within her body came roaring to life, remembering with alarm that she had choked him to unconsciousness only one short year ago… But he slid out of the way of her punch easily, too easily, his higher levels of adrenaline from the first fight giving him that reserve of power and strength that she struggled to build up to. He tapped her on the shoulder and she whirled, angrily, in time for him to smash his lips against hers, just for a second, before dancing away, grinning wickedly.

W-What?!

They were fighting!!

How _dare_ he!

The spark in his eyes told her he'd done it on purpose; he probably hadn't _wanted_ to kiss her, he was just trying to make her mad. Livid, she rushed him, threw another punch that he ducked under, coming back up, grasping her shoulders, pressing his mouth against hers once more, quick, teasing. She wanted to howl in frustration as he ducked away, laughing. Her feet dug into soil, she barreled right into him and they fell, struggling to the forest floor.

Her fingers curled like talons into the black material of his tank top and he waited for her head to connect with his. Which means he was wholly unprepared when she hauled him roughly upwards and her mouth crushed against his, and the blood roaried _in_ his ears instead of _out_ of them. He blinked stupidly at her for a moment, before hands dug into that long black hair and he was giving back as good as she gave, dropping back into the ground and drawing her with him.

The kiss, while sudden and passionate, remained fairly chaste, and the unexpected rush of fiery, teenage hormones, so different from the cold, clinical terms that they so often heard in class, was unnerving, a little frightening. She sat back up, looked down at him, awkwardly pushing a long strand of hair back behind her ear. They stared at each other for a long moment before his face hardened and he shoved her off of him, into the dirt.

"What the hell was that?" He demanded, sitting up.

"You started it!" She scowled.

The glared at each other, looked away, and he muttered, "Whatever," just as she was hissing, "Whatever." Their eyes swung back towards each other as the echoed sentiment rang about them. She wondered if she was a bad kisser. He wondered if he was insane.

She stayed with 493, waiting for her brother to wake up, and 494, he booked it, looked for an easier target to ambush, one that didn't make him so confused. Fifteen minutes ago, he'd been convinced he hated her, now the only thing he was sure of was that he wasn't sure of anything. It took almost two days, but the Reds finally prevailed, making off with the Blues' flag under cover of darkness. He caught her eyes as they were being loaded on to separate buses, but looked away too quickly to see her looking away, as well. He was so confused, he didn't even gloat that it was now 2-1.

"No drill this week," Lydecker frowned, steely, when she was seventeen. "The administrators got a kick out of watching Red vs. Blue every year, but everyone on Red team was reassigned to Solo Ops. We're still waiting on some operatives to get back." And he'd say no more about it.

No one in her unit would be assigned to Solo Operations; the uppers still didn't trust them because of that little blip when they were nine years old. Only the best, the most trusted, went into S.O.. Everyone else did coordinated unit work. But how unfair was that? That'd been almost eight years ago.

Almost two weeks later, the last of the operatives must have trudged back in, because they were all loaded up on the bus and sent to Blood Gulch. The drive was so familiar, Max hardly noticed when they stopped at the gate of the canyon, as hard eyes of Manticore guards trailed down the bus's windows, machine guns ready. They were waved through, leaving behind the men that would ensure a messy death to anyone who tried to get in or out without permission.

He was picking around in some cave when she found him. And she was annoyed that she had found him. Ugh, why did they always end up paired off like this? Someone must have it in for her. He whirled when her boot scraped against rock, and she was almost insulted when he relaxed, like she wasn't a threat.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, "Looking for a way to come in around the base from behind?"

"Obviously," He shrugged. "Never underestimate the value of a good cave system. A couple in Kezmikistan helped me get away; saved my life,"

"Is that where you went?" She demanded. "When you were on Solo Ops?"

"Does it matter?" He replied, lazily, something calm in him, something knowing and different as he leaned nonchalantly against a rough rock wall.

"Why would it?" She scowled, unnerved by the languid change within him. "I only really see you once a year, I could give a damn what you do in your off time,"

He straightened, his eyes narrowing. "So I guess you wouldn't care to hear about Lola, then,"

She bit her tongue to stop from asking him who Lola was. If she was pretty, if he'd kissed her, made… what is it that the Ordinaries said? Made love to her? The thought turned her stomach into a hard knot of anger.

"Is this the part where we fight?" His voice was low, full of a strange, vibrating intensity that made little shivers trip down her spine.

"No," She frowned, her head cocking to the side. "This is the part where I kick your ass."

"With those bean-pole arms? Please." He rolled his eyes, glancing away. Not as inattentive as he seemed, though, because he slid out of the way of the blow, crap, he'd only done it to draw her in and whirl her around. The rough rock of the cave wall was harsh, scraping against her back, a strange, surreal counterpoint to the hard lines of his body, molding so intimately, so perfectly, against hers. She didn't struggle, but only because all those sharp little rocks would have done a number on her back. She settled for bringing her foot down, hard, on his, and he winced.

"Why are you so violent?" He demanded, wiggling his foot out from beneath hers.

"Why are you so annoying?" She shot back.

"Maybe because I like it," He grinned crookedly at her, pressing harder into her, pressing her harder into the wall, his forearms lifting to brace around her head as he leaned in.

"Ditto," She scowled, her hand trailing up his side, across a dirty, sweaty shoulder, gripping at the underside of a red bandana fastened above the contracted muscle of a rather… nice… bicep.

He made a little noise in the back of his throat as her eyes caressed his arm, something that vibrated through him, vibrated through her.

"I'm not going to copulate with you," She said, imperious, looking at him once more and clutching tighter at that bandana.

And he scoffed, "Like I'd want to sleep with a tomboy like you."

"I don't like you," she added, her eyes darting to lips that were getting closer.

"Likewise," his breath was washing across her face now and the arm that she wasn't clutching did its own wandering, pulling away from the rock wall, his hand sliding down the smooth skin of her arm, glancing across the backs of fingers in a strange kind of intimacy, before he grasped surely at the curve of her hip, and when had her breathing gotten so labored? When had his? Her head rolled backwards, her eyes falling shut as he drew her leg up around him, as he pressed even closer and she didn't know if the grip on the red bandana could get any tighter.

"Well, for people that don't like each other, you sure look close,"

Two heads whipped around, to the blonde smirking at them from the entrance. "Zane?" Max asked, but no, that was a red bandana on his arm, so it was 494's growled "567?" that drew the other transgenic's attention.

"Man," 494 grunted, refusing to release 452, "Will you get the fuck out of here?"

"You're consorting with the enemy," 567 shook his head in mock sadness.

"Get the hell out of here, 567!" 494's annoyance was growing. "That's an order!"

"Ordering me around just so you can get a piece of ass?" The other man huffed. "Doesn't that seem like an abuse of power to you? Now, if I had a hot little Blue to snuggle up to-"

494 released her before she could start struggling, his focus still on his Second. "Oh, you are so going to get it later."

"Yeah, whatever," 567 rolled his eyes. "Let's get going. 453 thinks she spotted the Blues' flag up on the ridgeline." He nodded at her as he turned. "452, nice…" His eyes glanced across her heaving chest, eyes lighting, before focusing on her arm. "…bandana." He offered them both a smirk before stepping back into sunshine, and Max glanced at 494, who was glancing at her.

"Later," He muttered.

"There won't be a later," She glared.

"I meant later as in 'bye,'" He scowled. "God, take some CVU classes already," And he stepped from the dimly lit cave before she could dredge up a verbal retort, or, at the very least, a decent sized rock to lob at his head.

They both knew only the Solo Op's took Common Verbal.

He was, undoubtedly, the most frustrating man she'd ever met.

"Worse than Zack?" Jondy rested her head against her sister's shoulder. "I mean, Zack can be pretty annoying,"

"Keep it down," Max glanced around, her voice a harsh whisper. They were up atop the bunker, thinking it too hot to sleep down in the flag area, like most of their family had chosen to do. Most of the unit was worn out from fighting off the Reds earlier in the day. Max, who hadn't been there, had plenty of energy on top of her regular shark like tendencies, and Jondy, one of the guards that'd been left as a decoy at the bunker, was equally energetic, sleep unwilling to come.

"Why?" Jondy giggled, teasing. "Scared someone might hear? Can't let anyone know about your traitorous tendencies?"

She didn't say so, but that was exactly the problem. They were both a part of Manticore, but these little exercises had put them all in the mentality of being on 'different sides'. Especially when they were out here in the middle of nowhere. And worse, he was the twin to her brother, Ben, and she was worried what they might say about the strange, confused feelings crashing through her. Jondy, her closest sister, was the only one she could trust with this.

"I mean, how can I like him?" She made a face. "He doesn't even have a _name_."

Jondy glanced up, brown eyes wide and innocent. "How is that a problem, Maxie? Worried you won't know what to say while you're in the throes of ecstasy?"

Max shoved her sister away, laughing softly, her cheeks burning pink. "Shut up,"

They both fell absolutely still as a small rock bounced next to their feet.

"Uhhh…"

Then another one, arching up over the side of the bunker, bouncing across concrete, rolling to a stop near them. The two girls scrambled to the edge, peering over it in time to see 494 lift another pebble.

"Oh," He dropped it. "Hey."

"Hey? _Hey_?!" She hissed. "What are you _doing_ here, 494?!" Her eyes quickly lifted, scanning the trees for cameras, but thankfully, the only ones she saw were the ones pointed at the front and back entrance. Here on the side they were safe, protected, from the Big Brother eyes of Manticore.

Her own cat-like eyes made it easy for her to see him rolling his in the darkness. "What do you think? Come down from there."

"Are you insane? Go away!"

"Don't make me come up and get you." He grinned back. The stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, she huffed, lifting her leg over the edge of the rooftop.

"What? Max!" Jondy grabbed her arm. "Don't go _with_ him!"

"Why not?" Max hissed back. "Weren't you the one saying it wasn't that big of a deal?"

"I meant when we're back at Manticore, not when we're out here on opposite sides!" Jondy's eyes darted to 494, still waiting impatiently in the brush. "Besides, he could be luring you out so his teammates can sneak in."

"How would drawing one person away make it easy for them to steal the flag? Half the unit is sleeping in the same room with it." Max rolled her eyes. "Besides, I'm not going to _do_ anything." She pointed out. "I'm just going down there to kick his ass, and tell him to leave me the hell alone."

A sudden disturbance from below caught their attention, and 494 whirled, but it was just 567 that popped out from amongst the trees.

"See!" Jondy squealed around the hand that Max suddenly clapped around the girl's mouth to soften the high tones.

"He brought back-up!" She mumbled around Max's hand.

"567, what the hell are you doing here?" 494 hissed.

"Following your dumb ass, what do you think? Man, you must really wanna…" He glanced up, his eyes connecting with Jondy's large brown orbs. "Well, heeellooo, nurse. Hey, 452," His whisper was harsh in the silent night air. "Who's your friend?"

Guess Jondy didn't have a twin equivalent within the Reds. Max and Jondy just glared at him, Max finally dropping her hand back to her side.

"You're going to get us caught," 494 scowled at his Second.

"I don't see why you get to have all the Blue action, cut some of the rest of us in." 567 whispered back.

494 turned abruptly, his eyes connecting with hers in exasperation. "Are you coming or not?"

Max and Jondy shared a glance. Jondy shook her head. Max's eyes widened, her mouth firmed, in a 'come _on_' expression. Jondy was pretty open with Max, her closest sister, but in reality, she was always the most timid, the one the least willing to take chances.

Her pale-skinned sister sighed at Max's look.

"I thought you hated this guy," She swung her leg over the side.

"Stop talking." Max grunted, as she propelled herself over the edge. Her feet connected with the soft forest floor, her body in a compact, impact reducing crouch, and she glanced up to see 494's wicked smirk. The thrill that shot through her gut made her half tempted to turn around and go back. Too late now as his outstretched hand was before her and she hesitated only a moment before taking the devil's hand, letting him pull her to a standing position.

"You want me to catch you?" 567 was calling softly up to Jondy, smirking, but her usually shy sister just rolled her eyes, swung her other leg over the ledge, and dropped the less than twenty feet to the ground.

"Could have just said no," The less laid-back, more intense, snarkier version of Zane muttered. Sometimes she wondered if Red team, or at least the clones on the Red team, were only different because they'd all been given Speed. They all had such annoyingly forceful personalities… Not at all like her and her gentle brothers n' sisters… Or at least, that's what she told herself as she followed 494 into darkness.

"Where are we going?" She asked his broad back. Broader than it'd used to be. Who cares about a stupid back, anyway?

"You'll see."

He led the three of them through the forest, through little game trails and mostly undisturbed underbrush, out of the way areas that the all seeing eye of Manticore hadn't seen fit to install cameras… She was half-afraid he was just trying to draw her away from the base, but no, he'd just taken a shortcut back to the cave she'd found him in earlier.

"What are we doing here?" Jondy shivered in the slightly less sweltering air of the dark cave. 567 sidled a little bit closer, and Jondy must have been more unnerved than she let on because she let him. Max was tempted to turn around and snap, God, Jon, he's not going to _kill_ us… but even she was wondering what the hell they were doing in a dark cave after midnight.

"Alright, boys n' girls," 494 glanced at them over his shoulder. "Let's go," and he took off into a small opening at the back of the cavern, leading further into the mountain.

No. Effin'. Way.

"I'll hold your hand," 567 offered. Jondy shook her head.

"_I'll_ hold your hand," Max offered, glaring at the blonde man trying to schmooze on her sister.

"If he kills us," Jondy whispered into her ear, eyes darting around, as they stepped into the small passageway, hands connected. "I'm going to kill you."

Nature's corridor wasn't very long though, and before real uneasiness could claim them, they were through the tight space and in a large open chamber beyond. And they could see.

"What the-"

"It's the fungus," 494 supplied helpfully, startling them, lounging by the crack in the wall. "They're bioluminescent,"

"You could have just said they glow in the dark, smarty pants," 567 said from behind the two girls, and they quickly stepped aside to let him through.

Max leaned into the walls, looking at the small mushrooms that emitted a soft, greenish kind of glow. "What causes it?"

"Enzymes?" 494 shrugged. "Who the hell knows, that's not why I brought you here." His hands curled around her shoulders, turning her around and propelling her a few steps forward. It wasn't just a large chamber, it was a rather large, rather gorgeous, underground aquifer. The top of the water glinted silver in the eerie light, little ripples creasing across its still surface as droplets dripped from the cavernous ceiling.

"No way am I getting in there!" She scowled.

"It could have an undercurrent!" Jondy agreed, stepping closer to her sister. "Or worse, snakes!"

"How are snakes worse than an undercurrent?" 567 made a face.

494 ignored them all, pulling the black tanktop from his shoulders. "Stop being a big baby."

"I can't believe you brought me all the way out here to show me a stupid cave and get me killed," Max grumbled, turning to watch him kick off his boots and unfasten his belt. Her cheeks colored slightly as long fingers slid down a zipper and she looked away quickly when his head came back up. She watched from her peripherals as he unfastened the red bandana from around his bicep, and it was only then that she could stomp further away, into shadows, and start pulling off her own clothes, stripping down to her underwear.

"I can still see you," Jondy called. 494 snorted.

"Get over here! I'm not doing this alone!"

"Fine," Jondy huffed, stomping over to her friend. "But only because Command didn't see fit to provide us with frickin' showers. And we are _not_ letting go of the edge."

"Whatever you say," Max bent over, untying her restricting boots.

They slid into the water from opposite sides, but 567 called out that he thought he'd seen a snake near Jondy and immediately the brunette had started splashing her way towards him because 'even I'm not so nice that I won't pop an idiot,' and Max was left alone, leaning against the rocky edge, her skin rejoicing at the feel of water against her skin.

And all too soon, 494 was swimming lazily towards her. "This isn't so bad, is it?" He stood up, water sluiced off his torso, and he was running a hand through wet hair, and there were yards and yards of water stretched out before her, but her mouth had never been so dry.

"I guess," She hedged, glancing away.

"C'mon, 452, can't you just admit it was a good idea? And while you're at it, admit that you like me… just a little." His smile was crooked.

"I don't."

"Then why'd you come with me?" He cocked his head sideways, advancing slowly through the water, towards her, and she finally released the edge but only so she could kick away from him, swimming a meter or so away. His lip curled into that little smirk that sometimes she dreamed about when hormones got in the way.

"Why'd you come get me?" She countered.

"Maybe I just like breaking the rules," Blue Lady, smiles like that shouldn't be allowed.

"Maybe I do too," She refused to stay still, to give him an opening to grab her, to give herself an opening to let herself be grabbed.

He made that little 'hmm' sound again, the same one he'd made earlier, when he'd had her pinned to the wall of the cave, and the reaction it drew from within her was very similar.

"Teenage years," 494 affected a knowing air as he hunched down into the water, up to his neck, seemingly giving up on making a grab for her, content to lie patiently in wait. "All about rebellion, that's what they say, isn't it? About the Ordinaries?"

"We're not Ordinaries," She replied lazily, swimming circles around him, unwittingly drawing closer. "We're soldiers."

"Teenage is teenage in my book," And then he lunged, coiled steel unfolding, and he pulled her in and she let him. "Why else can't I stop thinking 'bout you? Even though we both know, that out here at least, it's very, very wrong."

"Maybe you have a death wish," Max shrugged. "I dunno," and seventeen year old arms descended around eighteen year old shoulders. He watched her warily as her legs wrapped around his waist, under the water.

"You're not going to choke me again, are you?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes. He didn't go right for the kissing, which was so okay in her book, she so didn't even care, but he straightened, standing tall, and walked lazily through the water, holding her, his arms wrapped around her slim back. They could hear Jondy and 567 splashing at each other like a bunch of two year olds on the other side of the pool, but the large cavern tried to solemnly swallow even that, turning it into an echo of an echo. It was so quiet… like nothing out there could intrude on them in here.

Maybe it was that hint of forbidden that was so incredibly intoxicating. Maybe it was just him.

His walking, not just an unplanned stroll after all. Near the edge, the water had only been to his waist. Where he carried her, it was up to their chests, and here, it was a hair darker, not that it made much difference to rapidly adjusting transgenic eyes that bathed everything in a silvery night-glow. The outcropping of rock made a huge difference, though, and though she could hear her friend and his Second, she couldn't see them.

"Why did you come get me?" She heard herself ask again, in a voice small and soft. He didn't answer her, because, honestly, he didn't know. He didn't love her. He wasn't entirely sure he even liked her. But since he'd first seen her when he was fifteen, he'd been drawn to her, like they were two polar opposites. And the closer he was to her, the harder it was to resist, to break away. It was like fighting nature, and right now he had a feeling it'd be easier to defy gravity than it would be to let go of her.

Teenage hormones probably played a large role in it too.

"It was a simple question," She muttered, when his gaze had been too distant for too long. "Don't have an aneurysm or anything."

"I hardly see you all year," He mused aloud, ignoring her comment. Hazel eyes refocused and connected with brown. "But when we're out here, it's like you're_ all_ I see."

His forehead fell forward gently, just resting upon hers, and she smiled, despite herself. Her arms tightened around his neck and her mouth, hesitant, moved towards him, brushing so lightly against his own that it could have been mistaken for her breath if it hadn't caused a shock of electricity to sizzle through his body. That was it, the heat they'd felt before, and this time, it was his mouth that pressed against hers, hungry and firm, ripe with demand. She gasped in compliance and a silken tongue slid against her own, just for a moment, a splayed hand slid down her black, fingers curled into dark hair, and sensory overload almost destroyed her.

"WOO! What you guys cookin' up over here?!"

494 broke away from her mouth and they stared at each other for a long moment.

"I really hate that guy," He managed, after a moment.

"He's your Second," Max released him, letting her own feet touch the murky, granite depths.

"Which is the only reason he's still alive, believe me."

"I'm standing right here," 567 frowned. "You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here."

"Jondy!" Max called, unmindful of the way 567 and 494 shared a sudden, surprised glance. "Come help me drown an idiot!"

"What did you just call her?" 567 was staring at 452 like she'd suddenly grown another appendage, possibly another head, and crap, she'd gotten too comfortable.

"It's nothing," Max hedged, suddenly defensive. "Just a name she had, out on a mission one time."

567 didn't look like he bought it. 494 didn't look like he cared. There had been a lot of splashing and shrieking and dunking after that, so it was mostly forgotten. Especially with the way 494's hand would sometimes secretly glance across her skin, under the water.

494 and 567 ducked out of the aquifer, back into that opening cave, as Max and Jondy got dressed. Jondy was combing out long straggles of chestnut hair with her fingers as Max slipped through that crevice in the wall… and paused.

"Man, it sounded like a name to me. I mean, like a _name_, name."

"Who the hell cares?" 494 still sounded like the whole idea bored him.

"C'mon, you know what the rumors say."

Max's heart started thudding loud in her ears. Was it bouncing off the walls? Surely they heard it.

"Since when have I ever given a crap about rumors?" She peered around the edge, and 494 was lounging against a rock wall, his arms folded across his chest. 567 looked a little earnest and troubled.

"But this isn't like A loves B, man, this is the big time. If it's true that they all gave themselves names, then maybe it's true that they tried to bust out back in '09." Her heart no longer pounded. It had stopped. "Maybe it's true, maybe they really are defective."

Max stepped from the crack in the wall, her eyes immediately connecting with 494's. He didn't seem surprised. Had he known that she was there? Had he only pretended nonchalance for her benefit? Jondy stepped out after her, smiling slightly, shyly, at 567 who had turned and was staring at them in surprise.

"We're going back to our base," Her voice sounded wooden in her ears.

Jondy started on ahead, without her, but 494 caught her hand as she was about to slip into darkness, and she looked down in pretended disinterest.

"Do you have a name?" He asked.

"My designation is 452." She replied stiffly.

"That's not what I asked." He frowned.

She shook him free and he let her. The admission was quiet in the darkness. "It's Max."

His eyes lit, a slow smile dawning on his face as his lips caressed the word. "_Max_."

She nodded, hesitant, turning, and would have finally walked away if his voice hadn't stalled her one more time.

"Meet me here tomorrow."

It didn't sound like a question, which maybe made sense, because they both knew the answer anyway. She nodded, again, and slipped into the trees.

But it wasn't meant to be. The Blues tied up the score early in the morning while the Reds commanders were still asleep, nabbing the flag, making it officially 2-2.

They were loading onto the buses when his voice split the clearing, split the silence. "Hey, 452!" Almost all of her unit turned in surprise, but she, she'd been looking at him to begin with. "Next time," He said simply.

She tossed her head and snorted a "Yeah, sure." To anyone else, it sounded a lot like a challenge. But to them, it was more of a promise; their little secret. 567 shook his head, Jondy hid a smile behind slim fingers, and Max didn't look back as she got on the bus.

Jace and Eva descended upon her immediately. "What was that about?" One asked, as the other was demanding, "Have you two talked before?" To which Max replied in a bored tone, "Yeah, we've been knocking each other out since I was fourteen."

"Lucky." Eva scowled, twisting her blonde hair over her shoulder, and Max blinked in confusion.

She crept from her bed close to midnight, pulling open the steel door and glancing down the hallway. The red light of the camera blinked at her for a few seconds before finally going dark, the monitors being linked to a similar hallway within Manticore, one in which no one was creeping. Who said all those vitamins they got stuffed with every morning were good for nothing? Frank, one of the security techs, and a body builder, happened to love them.

She knocked slightly on Zack's door. He pulled open the door, and he must not have been sleeping, because his eyes were sharp. "Max?" He shook his head. "I told you to stop trading your vitamins. Your shakes-"

"One day won't hurt me," Max scowled. "And I'll grab a glass of milk at breakfast tomorrow."

He frowned, then sighed. "What was so important that you bribed a guard? Usually that's more Zane's department."

"What do you remember about the accident in 2009?"

Zack stiffened, his face going Manticore cold. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious." She glanced away. "There's some rumors-"

"Who told you?" He demanded. "Was it the Reds? That C.O.? Did he say something?"

Max blinked at Zack's sudden defensiveness. "What? No! It's just a rumor I heard! And I haven't even told you what it was, yet!"

Zack relaxed a bit, but his eyes remained narrow. "Well, what is it then?"

Max had a feeling that he already knew, but she said it anyway. "That… the accident, the one in 2009? That it wasn't an accident… that maybe we… tried to escape?"

She heard a cell door slide open at the end off the hall. Tinga's room, then.

His face was still like steel, and Max detected a hint of the robotic Manticore programming in his voice. "Don't worry about it, baby sister."

"I'm seventeen," Max resisted the urge to stamp her foot. "Don't call me that!"

"Max," Tinga was hurrying down the hall.

"What are you keeping from us?" Max scowled up into her C.O.'s face. "What happened in 2009?"

Another door. Krit, another night model, and Syl by default, 'cuz she always snuck into Krit's room after curfew. Said she had trouble sleeping at night. Nightmares.

"What are you talking about?" Tinga's voice was soothing, "It was a training accident, you know that."

"Then why does Manticore hate us? Why don't they trust us? Why do I remember being so cold and so scared and so alone? I don't think it was an accident. I think maybe that rumor makes more sense then the memory they tried to put in us. I think we tried to run."

"That's ridiculous," Zack made a face, more of himself all of a sudden. "We're good soldiers, why would we run?"

Max backed down in the face of her real brother. This wasn't programming, he really did believe what he'd just said. "I… I don't know…"

"Max," Tinga shook her head. "Where did you get this idea from?"

"It's… just a rumor I heard," She frowned.

"Rumors are just rumors, baby sister."

Max sighed, and even though she was young, she suddenly felt terribly, terribly old. "I guess," She muttered.

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" Tinga asked, soothing.

"I'm not a child anymore." Max snapped and stomped back down the hallway, back to her small quarters, hardly sparing Krit, or sleepy-eyed Syl, a glance. She slid the door shut behind her, sat at the small desk that was only hers, just hers, and buried her head in her arms.

They were made to defend the freedom of the United States. Freedom? Freedom?

What's that?

A rumor is a rumor, unless it involves 494, and then it's usually true and it's usually bad. When she was in her early teens, the rumor had been that he was charming and quick and hard to beat. When she got back from the training exercise the previous year, full of doubts about 2009, about herself and her family, the rumor had been that an Iranian prostitute by the name of Lola had taught him how to talk any girl he wanted out of her standard issue underwear. Now, rumor was that he was nineteen and broken, and he hadn't been seen in weeks.

They weren't connected. Not really. All they had were a few stolen moments. But she poked around, found someone willing to deal, and came back from Cincinnati with a functional 9 mm. Mauser that she'd lifted from a museum. She handed it off to the collector and she was in the "psych" ward before she knew it, "on your own," the guard had warned, hardly looking up from the new piece in his hands. She didn't have a single doubt he would shoot her with it if it saved his own ass.

The psych ward was not about hospital beds and mental jackets. It was about iron bars and jail cells, the place that they tossed your prone body when PsyOps wasn't working on your mind.

He was staring at a ceiling. And he didn't even hear her.

"Lay off the meds tomorrow night."

"Hey," The guard started.

"That gun was made in 1907." The eighteen year old scowled. "I didn't get it for you so I could talk to someone too doped up to even know I'm there. Leave off the drip tomorrow when they're done with the lasers."

The guard could have gotten testy, but somewhere in that self-serving mind, there must have been an inkling of fairness, because he nodded.

The next night she came, he was staring at the wall, and he was groggy, but he was lucid, and he knew her name. "Max? What are you doing here?"

"Funny." Max's head cocked to the side. "I came here to ask you the same thing."

"I don't know," But his voice was soft and drained.

"Yes, you do." Max insisted. "What happened?"

He blinked and tried to focus. Every day he was in here, they'd take a little bit more of him, until he was a bank slate once more, just a soldier, ready for Reindoctrination and months of a hard mask until his personality made a come back. Took about three weeks for little quirks to make a reappearance, about six until simple, personal tastes, like a favorite food, or hatred for Monday night mystery meat, made a comeback, and more like three months until the soldiers seemed completely human again, and could be approved for active duty in the civilian world. Really, if it didn't make them stick out like sore thumbs, the empaths and the uppers would probably all rather make them walking automatons. It might work for those working as a Unit, but for Solo Operatives? Walking around blank eyed and steely faced wouldn't insinuate them into their targets lives very quickly, now would it?

He sounded mournful now, confused, shaking his head. "I told you, I don't know. I don't know, I don't know, I-"

"494, snap out of it," She hissed.

The guard shook his head. "Girly, they don't got much more left on this one. He's already been in here for a month."

"Psy Ops and ReDoc takes six months." Max scowled. "How could they wipe him that fast?"

"From what I've heard? He doesn't want to remember, and it's making it easier for them. They'll probably keep him for the full six months, observation and all that, but my money is on him not remembering a thing by the end of this week."

Max sighed, leaning into the bars. "You stupid Red, you."

494's eyes widened and his head snapped towards her. And for a moment there was a bit of a lucidity, a bit of saneness, before something dark took over once more, and his hazy brain pushed a soft sigh, "Rachel," past his lips.

Max froze.

First Lola. Now Rachel?

"Can you give us a minute?" Max scowled at the guard.

"Man, 452, you're gonna have my ass," The guard scowled, but he slipped the key into the lock, pulling open the cell door before hurrying away. He paused as he neared the exit. "Hey, remind him that he always cuts me in on deals on vitamins okay?" The guard offered her a wicked wink before slipping out the door, shutting it behind him. She slipped into the cell, sitting next to him on the bunk, a little tentatively. He could just as easily explode into violence as he could slip back into mental obscurity, and she needed to be on her guard.

Sweet Lady, what was she even doing here?

"Who's Rachel?" She asked softly.

He stiffened.

"Is she pretty?"

He turned to look at her, and she worried he was going to flip, but suddenly he smiled. "Not as pretty as you," and lunged for her, pushing her down into the cot.

"What?! 494! I thought-"

"Man, do you know how the guards would freak if they knew that one day without meds kicked all that shit out of our system? One stinkin' Mauser wouldn't keep him from blabbing to the Uppers." He eyed her, beneath him. "What are you doing here? And why did you bribe a guard to get in here?" He paused, and PsyOps was still ghosting around the edges because he asked. "And who's Rachel?"

"I don't know," Max scowled, beneath him. "You're the one that said it."

"No I didn't." He scowled back.

"The guard was right," Max frowned, "They are working fast on you." Her head cocked to the side, her eyes narrowing. "What is it that you don't want to remember?"

494 sat back up, shoving a hand roughly through hair that was a bit longer than last she'd seen it. "I don't know," He scowled. "Mission went sideways. Car bomb or something went off too soon." Or was it too late? Christ, he couldn't remember.

"Was Rachel another transgenic?" Max hoped.

"No," He snapped, and when he didn't try to hard, he could sort of remember. "She… she was a civilian, year younger than you, I think. And yes," he conceded, as a flash of smiling brown eyes filled his vision. "She was pretty if in an Ordinary sort of way. Nothing like what you see here, just… normal."

Max sat up slowly. "And you had… feelings for her?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "She was innocent and I… I…"

The haze kicked back in and he went somewhere distant and she leaned into his side, wondering how she could feel as close to a man that she only saw once a year as she did to a family that she lived with year round. When he snapped back to himself, he glanced down at her before letting his head rest against the gray cinderblock of the cell wall.

"Mint condition 9 millimeter or not, there's no way the guard will let me off the meds tomorrow. Won't want to take the chance that they wear off and I get lucid and the empaths get suspicious."

"They make me sick," Max whispered. It was vaguely disturbing… Transgenics doing that to other transgenics. Wasn't it supposed to be one big happy family or something like that? Where was their sense of loyalty? Probably with Zack's and Ben's and Tinga's; all firmly placed upon Manticore.

"Sometimes I wish I could be outside," Max stared at the ceiling. 494 glanced at her from the corner of his eyes as she continued. "Like, _O__utside_, outside, you know? Without my unit, or without a trainer to report back to, or-"

"You mean like, being free?" 494 didn't sound alarmed, not like 567 would, not like Zack would. In a few weeks, the answer would be mechanical and stiff. They were soldiers, he would undoubtedly say, wiped of all personality. It was their duty to follow orders, not to think of the Outside.

"Yes." The word tasted funny in her mouth. "Like 'free'."

"They'll wipe you if they hear you say that," 494 sighed.

"Which is why I don't say it," Max snapped back. Except she just had, to him.

"You know our cave?" Max asked with a sigh, her tone gentling.

His eyes were shut, the hard processes of PsyOps made it even harder for those in the psych ward to stay awake for very long, even without the meds. "What about it?"

"I want you to meet me there," Max replied, serious. "When we go back."

"Max, I'm not going to remember this when I get out of here."

"Try," She insisted. He opened his eyes and he looked at her and he smiled.

"Why you always making my life so difficult?" She started to protest, but he kept talking and his words slammed the breath out of her. "I'd kiss you, but I want to remember it, want it to mean something. Next time in Blood Gulch, then."

She nodded, a bit shaky. She found herself asking, "Do you promise?"

He'd nodded, and she hoped it meant something when this was all over.

Jondy was waiting in Max's small, single room when Max came back. And she'd broken down crying, telling Jondy that she hated it here, and she just wanted to go. Jondy had backed out of the room, flustered and horrified.

He came out of PsyOps after the requisite six months, a changed man, an empty man that would only be good for unit work until the harsh effects of the empaths and Reindoctrination wore off. She looked at him from across Mess or drills or anything, but all that looked back, when he did notice her, was a shell. Was this feeling… was it hatred? Hatred of Manticore, her duty, her life? Hatred for what they could do and hatred for what all transgenics just sat back and accepted? Was she really just supposed to sit back and let her spirit die within her?

Was it stupid to hope he'd remember his promise? Probably. It had been one moment of lucidity in a sea of nightmares. But still, when they were driven out into the wilderness, Max waited until everyone was asleep and dropped off the edge of the bunker, heading into the woods.

He was there. God. He was there.

"452," His voice wasn't as wooden as it'd been, but there was still the mad edge of emptiness. He still had a few weeks to go till he'd be completely normal. "I was just thinking about you."

Something in him had remembered. Something small had pulled him from his sleep and carried him through the woods, back to this cave, to the memory of feeling and laughing and _wanting_. She ached in sudden joy.

"You promised you'd come." She sounded a little breathless.

"Did I?" He asked. Finally he nodded. "Right. When we were getting on the buses, over a year ago."

"No," she shook her head. "When you were in PsyOps, when they were wiping the mission-"

But 494 became agitated, like those who'd been wiped often did when confronted with the truth that the mind could not verify. "What? Mission? I haven't been on a mission in almost a year."

"Eight months," Max corrected, and that made it worse. He looked like he wanted to hit something and Max's lips zipped back up and she told herself to stop talking.

"Well," He finally said. "Promise or not, I do remember you and this cave." And was that a smile? A smile she remembered very clearly, actually.

He lunged for her and she reared away, a quick jab throwing him off balance, putting him on the defensive.

"I didn't come here to 'sleep' with you, 494." Max scowled.

"Maxie," His eyes gleamed, and how could he be schluffing off the effects of ReDoc so soon? Had her visit… had it helped protect him somehow? "You didn't say 'copulate'. I'm so proud."

"You're an idiot," She hissed, feeling defensive and whirling on her heel. "Don't know why I always bother with you anyway." She didn't really have any intention of leaving, but he didn't know that and he lunged for her and she twisted away, catching his arm, and it was _him_ that was shoved against an uncomfortable wall, hah, take that. She was the one pressing into him in interesting ways, but why did it still seem like he was the one in charge as his eyes gleamed down at her in darkness. Her hands slid up his chest, his neck, her fingers twining in the hair at the nape of his neck, just as long as it'd been since the last time they'd been alone together, in his cell. His hands, they just rested on her waist as he stared down at her.

"See, I told you she would be here," It was Jondy's voice that broke them apart. The pale-skinned brunette was staring at them, wide-eyed, 493 at her shoulder.

"Jondy!" Max's voice was cut with betrayal, and Jondy didn't even have the decency to look away.

"I'm sorry, Max, but you didn't start getting all those funny ideas about the Outside until you started taking up with him," Jondy pointed, accusatory, at 494. "I had to bring someone to talk some sense into you!"

"The Outside?" 494's voice was sharp, strangely interested. "What about the Outside?"

"No one's talking to you," Ben hissed, in a tone that Max had never heard from her soft brother.

"I'm sorry," 494 replied in boredom, "But haven't I beaten you before?"

493 ignored him. "Come back to base, Maxie. We need to talk."

But Max was feeling a little embarrassed that her family was tryin' to dictate to her, in front of 494, no less, and snapped, "I'll come back when I'm done here."

"Max,"

"She said she doesn't want to go," 494 was still lounging, lazy, against the wall, but there was something sharp in his voice, something ready and waiting in the lines of his body.

"And I said I wasn't talking to you," Ben took a little step forward.

"You really wanna go?" 494 pushed off the wall, his eyes suddenly blazing, nothing remotely robotic about him.

"Oh yeah," Ben scowled. "I _really_ do."

"Well let's go then,"

Jondy let out a small shriek as 494 lunged for them, not willing to give his twin the first strike. She dove out of the way as 494's fist connected powerfully with Ben's stomach, doubling the other nineteen year old over. It only took Ben a moment to recover, kicking his clone away. They were easier to distinguish now. 494 had gotten broader, more muscular, despite his stint in PsyOps, but 493 remained lean, like time had made one twin grow up, but had left the other untouched. And there wasn't a doubt, as 494 came back easily from the kick, who the better fighter was.

Ben ducked out of the way of another blow, shouting to Jondy as sweat started to gather at his temples, "Go get Zack!"

But Max grabbed at her sister, hurt when the brunette winced away from her. "Jondy,"

Jondy relaxed slightly, ignoring the grunts of the fight from the center of the cave. "Max, just come back with me. Zack will never have to know." She pleaded. When Max looked uncertain, unsure, her sister's eyes hardened. "If you don't, I'll tell him all that stuff you said about wanting to be Outside."

Max reared away in horror. Zack had never been the same since 2009, and the thought really and truly frightened her. "But… he would report it… He wouldn't be able to overlook that! He'd have me wiped!"

Jondy's eyes softened in pain. "It's for your own good, Max." Of course timid, faithful, loyal Jondy would think that.

"Get out of here," Max snarled, tears stinging at her eyes as she shoved her sister away.

Jondy booked it, undoubtedly to go get Zack, to have Max pulled, kicking and screaming, back to Blue base where her family could either talk sense into her or call in a mutiny to Manticore, effectively cutting the exercise short. She turned in time to watch 494's fist crash into the side of Ben's already bleeding face.

"Stop!" She shrieked, and 494 fell back easily, immediately, and Ben let him. Supremacy, it seemed, had been determined.

"Max," Ben shook a ringing head, blood streaming from the cut on his eyebrow. "It's not too late. Come back with me,"

But Max's chin lifted in the air. "I'll come back when I'm good and ready."

"But it's your _duty_-" He trailed off when he saw Max shut down even further. Ben had always cared a little bit too much about their 'duty', about the 'mission'. He was a soldier first and a brother second, and sometimes, Max was afraid to think, borderline psychotic, third.

Easily recognizable when Ben whirled on 494 and hissed. "And _you._ If I have to _kill_ someone, I'll get you thrown back in PsyOps. You'll be in there so long, not even the Nomlies will remember you."

"Get the fuck out of here," 494 replied, easily, not seeming terribly impressed. Maybe because he didn't know what the hell a 'Nomlie' was. For someone so good looking (494 smirked) 493 sure was a nut job.

As Ben took off, 494 crossed the cavern to Max. And swooped her up, his mouth capturing hers, hard and sure. Her hands pressed to the side of his face as she gave herself over to him, and her legs wrapped about him so tightly, he could feel his sides protesting. When he drew away from her mouth, even though she had responded readily, she gaped at him a little wide-eyed.

"What was that for?"

"We keep getting interrupted," 494 said blandly, still holding her easily. "I just wanted one kiss without one of our annoying unit mates getting in the way."

"You're awfully okay with this, considering you just got out of ReDoc," Max said suspiciously as he started walking, picking his ways around rocks, headed towards the entrance. "Aren't you supposed to feel… well… nothing?"

"Yeah, well, it's the funniest thing, my little Blue Juliet." 494 smirked, pausing at the cave entrance and if he hadn't sounded so serious, she might have thought he was joking. "When I'm around you, that's just not possible. Since I was fifteen, the only thing I could feel when I see you is 'want'. Followed closely by 'alive', and then by 'annoyed." He grinned at her, finally lowering her to her feet.

"So, now what?" She planted herself firmly at his side and turned to stare off, into the trees.

"Now? Well, I don't particularly have any desire to go back to PsyOps, do you?" He glanced at her from the corner of hazel eyes. "But we can't stay inside this cave forever. We have to go outside, eventually."

Outside? Somehow, Max thought he meant more than the one step necessary it would take to get them out of the cave and into the forest.

Her voice was soft, like speaking of the possibility too loudly might destroy everything. "This is a box canyon, in the middle of nowhere. There's no way in or out, except through the Manticore gates and guards."

494's arms folded across his chest, his face solemn, and, not for the first time, Max could see why he was the Red C.O. "Is it that there's no way out, or is that no one has ever cared to try before?"

But… her family… and…

"I can walk back to my base," 494 said, grave. "You can go back to yours and pretend to fall in line with whatever your commanding officer says. You can take the chance that he won't have you sent to ReDoc and we can meet here again next year, and every year after that, until one of us dies in combat."

Max's jaw squared. "I'll take my chances with the Outside, thank you very much."

As they stepped out of the cave, into the clearing and the warm night air, 494 shook his head. "Y'know, I didn't used to be a rebel."

"Well, I'd say I have that affect on people, but obviously not." Max scowled.

"Don't blame them for wanting the only thing they know, Max," 494 said softly.

"What?! It's the only thing we know too, but _we're_ not jumping to turn ourselves into the brass!"

As they passed into the treeline, 494's voice got amused. "Yeah, well, really I just want to get out of here and make it back to Lola."

The sound of pine needles swishing beneath their feet fell silent as Max paused. "That's not even funny."

"I knew you were jealous."

"I was not!'

"Then why are you turning red?"

She glared at him. "I don't know. I guess you just have that effect on me."

"You can say that again," 494 grinned wickedly, his eyes darting to the blue bandana, still tied about her arm. She ignored the glance and they began walking once more. "You know, we should make our own team." He mused.

Max's voice was amused. "What, like… Purple team or something?"

"Nah, I was thinkin', like… 494's Team, or something."

She rolled her eyes, picking her way over some fallen branches.

"No? What about Max _Loves_ 494 Team? Or 494 Is So Stripping Max Naked When They're Outside Team. Or- hey! Stop that, your elbows are bony!"

"How about the 494 Needs A Real Name Team?" Max retracted her joint from his ribs as they pushed deeper into the woods, headed for the west and a ridge that they both vaguely remembered as being slightly lower than all the others.

"I like it," He grunted. "It's got a ring to it."

They heard the sound of the Blues, calling for their lost sister soon after that, and all joking was forgotten as they just concentrated on getting the hell out of there. Of leaving everything but each other, the clothes on their backs, and two different colored bandanas, behind.

They stared up at the rock wall, frowning, flushed from the run through the trees.

"Piece of cake," 494 turned to smile at her. And, you know, stupid Red or not, she actually believed him.


	13. ST

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed on LiveJournal, your guys' support means a lot :)! And I know posting all these at once are gonna cause a serious dent in reviews on FF . Net, but thanks to everyone who reads!

A/N for S: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

A/N for T: Stupid Sin City.

* * *

S is for Surprise

Rated K+

* * *

"I don't know what to do," She moaned.

"Why do anything? Let it sort itself out."

Her look said, clearly, that that was not an option. That, hell or high water, she would fix this. Alec sighed. He _really_ hadn't expected to spend his afternoon like this.

But how could he? Hell, he hadn't seen her for years. Surprise was a mild term for what had gripped him when he'd jogged across the marble foyer and pulled open the front door and it had been her face peering up at him. Surprise had quickly turned into wariness when she'd asked for his help. But, hey, Alec was a helpful guy, and how could he turn her down, given their history?

Which is why they were now sitting across from each other, on the pristine white of his couches in his oversized, overpriced living room, while she illuminated the problem to him. Not that he much understood it, anyway.

"I don't really see what the problem is." Alec reiterated, leaning forward over his knees. "So there's an age difference, big deal."

"Big deal? It _is_ a big deal!"

"Why?" He threw back. "You think your eyes are being clouded? That his are? That there's some misplaced, misguided yearning for a parent figure at work?"

Her eyes swung to him, like the thought horrified her. "It's not that," She snapped. "It's just that we've been together for so long…" She trailed off, pensive, finally admitting, like she didn't want to, like she was making an excuse, "Maybe there is a little bit of family vibe, there."

Alec made a face but somehow managed to keep the smile and the laughter in. She focused on his amused eyes, her own narrowing.

"This isn't funny, this is a crisis!"

"Hardly," he drawled. "White coming back from the dead? That's a crisis. The second coming of the Cult? That's a crisis. Your love life, however…"

Her steely glare shut him up. Not because he was scared of her, because it just compounded his amusement and he was worried he might laugh in her face. He didn't want to be a jerk, he was getting too old for that.

Her eyes took on a calculating gleam as his own softened. "Maybe you can fix this."

"Me?!" He sat up abruptly.

"Talk to him. Maybe he'll listen to you."

"Why the hell would he do that?" Alec scoffed. Hell, Alec hadn't seen _him_ in years, either… since Alec had last seen her actually, and the two had disappeared into the night, together. And they hadn't been on good terms, anyway, because Alec had been dating her and he… well… he'd been as moody as a pubescent boy.

"Just tell him I don't think about him like that. That the age difference… it's just… it just won't work! Tell him anything!" She glanced up at him, almost desperate. "Tell him you're interested in me, for all I care, just get him off my back!"

He watched her for a moment, silent. When his voice came, it was commanding and authoritative and it got on her nerves, because it dredged up some guilt within her, a feeling of smallness that she didn't much care for. "I'm not going to fight your battle for you." He watched her shoulders slump. He shrugged, a little apologetic. "Besides, maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm not exactly unattached." He waggled the fingers of his left hand at her and a gold band glinted in the light of the afternoon sun.

Her eyes fixated on that flash of gold in surprise.

"I have a wife," He proffered gently, lowering his hand. "And a son. In the face of that, telling him I'm interested in you just wouldn't be very believable. You're just going to have to find a way to be honest."

She gaped at him. "You… you're married?!"

"Don't sound all shocked," He huffed. "Is it so hard to believe that someone would be interested in long term with me?"

"No," She shook her head. "I just… never figured you for the type." She admitted it grudgingly, an irrational surge of jealousy rising up. It was probably because of what he had, what she was still searching for, not for the man himself. Then again...

Maybe that spark of envy was because of a chance unrealized, because of what-ifs and maybes. They _had_ dated, a long, long time ago. It was before the bombs dropped, she remembered. But it hadn't lasted. They'd been together for the wrong reasons, for loneliness, for fear, for sex. But never for love… When transgenic nation had gone underground so many years ago, she'd gone one way, her current problem, the man that professed his undying love, that had pulled a diamond ring from his pocket a few days ago, going with her, and Alec… well, he'd taken his own predictable path. The split had been amiable, they'd both known it'd end sooner or later, that nothing would come of it, but still… He was so happy… She was so not happy… She couldn't help but wonder… if she'd fought harder for him, would she be the one secure, possessing that undefeatable calm that a strong bond of love could bring?

The front door slammed, and she started.

"That'll be the Missus," Alec's eyes warmed and she hated him a little bit, envied him, for his happiness. She turned in her chair, towards the archway that opened in from the front hallway, in time to see a woman, a toddler on her hip, step through. Eyes connected and two women started in astonishment.

"Gem?" Max said in surprise, just as Gem was exclaiming, "Max?"

"What are you doing here?" They asked simultaneously.

"What am I doing here? I live here!" Like that answer wasn't obvious, with a boy in her arms that couldn't be anything other than Alec's. She shifted squirming bundle from one hip to the other. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I was in the area, so I looked Alec up,"

They were eyeing each other, sizing each other up, two cats circling the same tom.

"Be honest," Alec interjected, seemingly oblivious to the strange undercurrent sizzling between the two women. "You didn't really come to see me. Tell her why you're really here."

Silence reigned for a long moment. "I didn't know what else to do," She finally admitted aloud, relaxing. Whatever it was that she and Alec had had, it was over a long time ago, and she was only even here because of another man. "I was in the area, and I saw a broadcast; Senator McDowall." Her voice was a bit amused as her eyes swung between the two. Finally, she slumped back into cushions. "Maybe it was stupid idea, but like I said… I don't know what else to do."

"She got a marriage proposal," Alec supplied to his wife. "And she's worried about the age difference."

"Age difference?" Max made a face, finally lowering her son to the ground.

"Dalton proposed to me," Gem buried her face into her hands.

Alec snorted again, and Gem glared at him through her fingertips. He couldn't help it though. Every time she said it, a little thrill of amusement raced through him. He couldn't have been more surprised than if she'd shown up on his doorstep to declare that the sky was green and grass was pink and the whole world was upside down.

Max watched Joshua bolt towards his toy truck, still abandoned in the corner from when she'd picked him up to take him to the park. Her eyes darted to Alec, like, _I told you to clean that up_, but his eyes glanced tellingly at Gem, so maybe he'd gotten distracted. She stifled the irrational surge of annoyance.

Max told herself that even if Gem and Alec had used to date, when they'd all left T.C., it was Max that Alec had chosen, had followed, and it was Gem that had let him go. What they'd had was over a long time ago, and Max, happily married to him for many a year, had no reason to be jealous. She should be welcoming Gem warmly into her home.

Her words grated harshly past her lips. "So Dalton proposed. Big deal. What's so wrong with that?" With a slight undercurrent of, _and what is Alec supposed to do about it, hussy_? Alec's eyes cut to her in amusement before focusing again on the redhead sitting across from him.

Gem was oblivious to Max's annoyance, caught up as she was in her own problems. "I've been taking care of him since he was 13 and I was 22. Doesn't that seem a little odd to you?"

"You're talking to a woman that tried to date a man over twelve years older than her for a good three years." Alec pointed out. Max scowled and Gem glanced up.

"That's right, I forgot about him." She blinked, registering, again, that it was Max that Alec was married to and last she'd checked, over eight years ago, even though Gem had frequently been wary of Max and Alec's hot and cold relationship, there hadn't been anything there that hinted at romance. "Whatever happened to Logan?"

Max made a face. Even after five years, it was still kind of grating. "I don't know. He refuses to talk to us." For an older man, he needed to grow up and get over it. She'd been understanding and patient for the first year, but when he was still being snide to Alec almost a year into their marriage, when he was still acting like he was holding out for a cure (like that could somehow fix all their problems, could make her love for Alec evaporate) Max had finally had enough, and as much as it'd pained her, she'd told him to get over it or go away. She hadn't expected him to choose 'go away,' she'd thought he was better than that.

A knock on the front door startled them all, and Max turned as whoever it was didn't wait for an answer, just made his way in through one of the large double doors. That's the problem with being a transgenic in the spotlight; other trannies were always stopping by... and none of 'em believed in personal space. It was a young man that was looking curiously around, hardly caring he'd just stepped into a prominant Senator's home without even an invite.

She had to give him some credit, though. At 22, Dalton was much better looking than what he'd been at 13. He'd grown into himself, and that easy, confident swagger reminded her of her husband, when he'd been that age.

"Max?" Dalton stopped in surprise. More like Alec than she'd thought. That easiness, that charisma, some of it was real, but a lot of it was a pleasant cover, hiding a bit of vulnerability beneath. He straightened under her weighing eyes. "I knew you were still alive, I didn't know-"

"Do you always bust into people's homes without waiting for an answer?" She demanded, an eyebrow arching. She played gracious hero for most of the week, polite to every politician she met, even the ones that made her clench her teeth, the ones that were more interested in her breasts than in her impressive military record. Today was her day off and this was _her_ turf.

And she'd had plans today. Dealing with one of Alec's exes, as remote an ex as Gem was, was not one of them.

Plus, Gem… Gem had been the one that she'd thought Alec would settle down with, perhaps the only girlfriend he'd ever had that she'd felt threatened by. She'd been half afraid, when they'd all left T.C., that he'd go with Gem and not with her, and it wasn't until she'd looked at it all in retrospect that she'd recognized the first signs of jealousy, the first hints that she'd wanted him for herself, that she wasn't quite sure what she would do without him. But that was neither here nor there. Today was supposed to be their day. Gem was not on the list. Tiring Josh out at the park and taking advantage of one of their few days off, now that had definitely been on the list.

She sighed. When was she going to learn that life refused to fall in with her plans? You'd think she'd have learned her lesson ages ago; after all, look at who she'd married.

"Come on, Max, aren't you happy to see me?" Dalton flipped on the charm, smiling crookedly. But come on, Max was married to the person that had indirectly taught Dalton that technique, and if Alec's easy charisma had never made her swoon, Dalton's sure as hell wouldn't, either.

"Gem's in the living room," She supplied, her face bland. She could hear Gem's sound of protest, but tough. Max was doing the woman a favor. It'd taken Max years to realize that just being honest was the best path in the long run, that avoidance and lies never brought anyone anything other than heartache and pain. Better for Gem to just give it to the boy (oh man, she was getting old, she'd just called a 22 year old a boy) straight, rather than dancing around it.

Dalton brushed past her, falling still on pristine carpeting, glancing up at the chandelier, across to the wide screen TV, the order, and cleanliness, and that hint of poshness. "Well, you guys have done well for yourselves."

"What gave it away?" Alec snarked back. "The TV or the brick wall you had to climb over to get in here?"

"I think it was the six frickin' miles of driveway I had to hike up," Dalton grinned.

The two men connected immediately, kindred kind of spirits, easily forgetting the surliness that Dalton had used to throw at him so many years ago (and that now made sense, considering Dalton's feelings for Gem). Max and Gem shared a look of exasperation.

"And you," Dalton turned on Gem, green eyes narrowing. "Would you please stop avoiding me?"

"Dalton-" Gem sighed.

"I get it, I'm young and hot, and you're over the hill, ready to be put out to pasture." Dalton frowned. Gem's mouth worked in horror. Over the hill?! She was only 31! Dalton eyes glinted in amusement, but his voice remained stern. "Now would you please give me a yes or no answer?"

Max's mouth opened, her natural protective instincts coming to the forefront. It wasn't as easy as all that. Had to give someone a chance to think after a question that big.

She'd given Alec a week before she'd started trying to corner him and it'd been almost two weeks before she forced an answer out of him.

Okay, so she hadn't been exactly patient after she'd popped the question. But in her defense, he'd been taking too long. He should have said yes immediately, even if her casual demand _hadn't_ been romantic, even if, like he insisted, she had sounded a little bitchy when she'd asked. But how was that her fault? She'd been scared out of her mind, and hadn't really wanted to be the one to ask, anyway. But she'd _had_ to ask, because _he_ never would have asked _her_. Big idiot that he was, he'd still been waiting for the terrible day in which she would declare that their whole relationship was a horrible mistake and she was going back to Logan.

Alec's eyes connected with her, like he too was remembering and her mouth fell shut before she could defend Gem. Maybe it was better for Gem to just be honest, so everyone could get on with their lives.

Predictably, Gem sighed, looked a bit lost, and finally she said, "No," in a soft voice that sounded a little pained.

Dalton nodded a bit, like he'd been expecting that. He didn't say anything to Max or Alec, but he was so tense, so obviously hiding defeat beneath the stoniness, that they couldn't fault him for bursting in and then walking out. Gem stared after him, a little lost, a little sad, and she jerked a bit when she heard the front door slam.

"Well," Max arched an eyebrow.

Gem looked at her, still standing in the archway. "Well, what?"

"Are you going after him or what?"

"What?!"

Max rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't be this worked up about it unless a small part of you had wanted to say yes. And you wouldn't have come over here unless you wanted someone to talk you out of it, to remind you that you're no good for him or something."

"He should be going after girls his own age, someone he can start a life with," Gem defended. "Not after a woman that has a nine year old waiting at home, that thinks of him as a kid brother."

"Please," Max scoffed. "I've said enough excuses in my own life to know one when I hear it. Will you please go and ask him out on a date before he finds someone in a bar that can numb the pain and hurt you both?"

Guess she'd never considered that possibility, because Gem was out the door before Alec could even tell her she was welcome to stay for dinner.

"What?" He asked as Max turned to glare at him.

"You were about to offer her dinner."

"So?"

"I told you, today was for 'us' time,"

"Come on, Max, how often do we get to see old friends?"

Max's scowl deepened.

Her husband's eyes took on a calculating gleam. "You're not… jealous… are you, Max?"

"What?" She stomped across the room, threw herself onto the couch next to him, her eyes staying firmly on her two year old, obliviously happy to grown-up drama as he rammed his truck into a pile of blocks. "Yeah right." But her head leaned into his shoulder, and her hand rested atop Alec's thigh, almost possessively.

He shifted and his arm fell around her shoulders, warm and soothing. "You shoulda heard it when she first came in. It was like déjà vu."

"What do you mean?" She glanced up into warm eyes.

"Remember that conversation we had about seven years ago?" Her blank look told him they'd had a lot of conversations seven years ago, because they'd had a lot to talk about. They'd just defeated the Cult, and were dealing with the fallout of being overnight heroes, dealing with burgeoning feelings and Logan always breathing down their necks. "You know," Alec said impatiently. "Right after Logan proposed."

"I don't see how the situations are similar," Max grumped. "She wasn't proposed to by a guy she could kill. Dalton's proposal wasn't based on a contingency status of 'when we find the cure.'" She glanced away, muttering "Still think the only reason Logan did it was because he was beginning to feel threatened by you and wanted to tie me down."

"Okay," Alec conceded, "So the situation was a little different. But word for word, it was almost _exactly_ like the conversation we had. It was like listening to a tape recording, I almost thought she was you."

Max rolled her eyes.

"She even asked me to take care of it."

Max blushed. "So it is a little similar," She admitted.

"Then she asked if I'd pretend interest in her, so he would back off."

"Okay, so it's a lot similar." She scowled. "What did you say?"

"Told her the same thing I told you," He said, all seriousness.

If she remembered correctly, and she did, he'd called her a callous bitch, and asked her how she could ask him that when they both knew how he felt about her. And she'd gaped like an idiot. That was right before he'd batted her hand away, and stepped in, and there was all that kissing.

Max blinked in confusion. "You called her a bitch and kissed her?" Alec rolled his eyes, and she hated when he did that, because when he did, Max was hard-pressed to remember that they were thirty and well-respected members of society.

"Of course not. What do you think I said?" He demanded, still serious. "I said the love of my life, my little schnooky bear, would never go for it, that it would probably make her burst into dainty, ladylike tears of unhappiness."

She stared at him for a long moment, again, trying to decide whether or not he was joking. His face finally split into a grin. She'd known him for ten years. They'd been together for seven of them, and married for five, but sometimes she still had trouble figuring him out. He said it kept things interesting. She said he was the poster child for divorce. There was usually sex afterwards, so neither of them minded.

"I'd say I hate you," Max started with a sigh.

"But we both know you'd be lying," He finished for her, a soft kiss glancing across the top of her hair. Like usual, there was that soft sense of wonder, the hint of childlike surprise, as she turned her face up to him and agreed.

Alec looked back at Josh, still playing with his truck. "Time for somebody's nap."

Her booted foot caught him in the ass as he leapt from the couch, and he yelped, but it didn't deter him from his mission; Operation Max and Alec Alone Time was officially in effect.

* * *

T is for Taste

Rated T+

* * *

The bouncer was female. Max hadn't been counting on that. Usually she could just put a sway in her walk, drop a slow, feline smile, and she'd be let in, no problem. But the back door bouncer was a six foot female with more muscles than some men she knew, and her eyes flicked over the hopefuls in cool, unaffected disinterest; weighing them for the services they could provide, not for how her own blood reacted. Which, actually, was fairly intelligent on the part of the Pussycat Lounge. She turned to Max, giving her a quick once over. She shook her head in disinterest, turning to look at the woman standing next to Max instead.

Max's mouth dropped open in unchecked shock. "What?" She demanded.

The bouncer's eyes flicked back to her, and there was a bit of an accent there that Max couldn't place. "Sorry, honey, not tonight."

"Are you kidding?!" Max's face twisted in annoyance. She didn't say it but she did think it; she was hotter than most of the sleaze-bags there. The skankily dressed woman by her side was still preening, puffing out her already more than generous chest, doing her best to win back the club picker's attention.

The bouncer rolled her eyes, pointing at the girl at Max's side, and thumbed her to the back. Max scowled and the woman finally laughed, leaning over Max's smaller form.

"Sorry, I know all you girls gotta make a living… But next time," Her hard eyes flicked down to Max's tanktop, her jeans. "Next time, why don't you dress the part? This is a strip club. How the hell you think you can dance in jeans?"

"No go," Max slipped back into the car.

"No go?" Logan asked, frowning. "What do you mean, no go?"

"No go." She repeated firmly. "Apparently I'm not skeazy enough to make it in," Max shrugged, not terribly upset. Last thing she wanted was to be pawed at while workin' for her sort-of boyfriend. "Guess you'll have to find some other prostitution ring to bust." Logan scowled at how pleased she sounded.

"Max, it's not about the prostitution." Logan frowned, putting the car into drive, pulling away from the curb slowly, looking over his shoulder to check for oncoming traffic. Max didn't say that in this area of town, he needed to worry more about drunks stumbling into the road in front of them than other cars behind; sometimes Max thought that Logan had forgotten about a little thing called the Pulse. Guess it was easy to do when you lived in Fogle Towers.

Her mind caught up to the conversation, realizing that Logan was still brooding petulantly on his side of the car. What did he mean, not about the prostitution? Max turned to look at him, her eyebrow arching.

"Well," he amended guiltily, keeping his eyes on the road. "I mean, it is, but more importantly, it's about the slave ring that helps feed the prostitution. Girls nabbed off the street all over the world and sold here…" He glanced away. "Or, at least, that's what we're trying to prove."

Max huffed in disgust, turning to stare out the window. "Why would they even let girls in off the streets of Seattle to strip if they're providing all the flesh they could ever need?"

"I don't know... Maybe for variety?"

Max eyed him, trying to control her 'wow, that was lame,' reaction. Seemed like his intel on this case was a little shaky... Guess that's why he'd brought her in to look around.

"Variety is the spice of life. Fresh faces every time you come in, it keeps people interested, keeps people coming back." Logan said blandly, guessing, correctly, that Max hadn't bought his half-cocked conclusion. Guess that makes sense... Max scowled at how disgusting men, sans Logan, were, as he continued, "Plus, all the other strip clubs do it, and they need to blend in, make people think they really are a regular club."

"Well, they're not letting me in," She shrugged. "Guess you'll have to find something else to take down."

"Max," Logan said warningly.

"Forget it, Logan."

"Max, this is important."

She turned to scowl at him. "I said no."

Max fidgeted, pulling the mini-skirt a little bit lower, the tight top a little bit higher, knowing it was useless. Walking would, and did, ruin her adjustments anyway. It was the same tall woman working the back door, dressed in a business suit this time, so maybe she wasn't just some bit-rate bouncer after all. Dark eyes flicked over Max's long blonde wig, the eyeliner and the lip-gloss, across the tight red corset top and black leather miniskirt, all the way down to the black high heels. Her eyes went back up to the long tresses of the honey gold wig and she pursed her lips in thought for a long moment. Finally, she nodded approvingly.

"Much better," So the woman did remember her from the night before, after all. Max got waved into the back as the woman turned and shooed all the other hopefuls away, having filled her quota for the evening.

Max was moving down the dark corridor, her heels clicking against concrete, the thumping music beating in time with her heart, when a hand caught her wrist and she whirled in surprise. The tall, muscular woman frowned, pulling away. "Jumpy, aren't you?"

"Sorry," She muttered. Then her head cocked to the side and she giggled absentmindedly, vacantly, in her best 'blonde' voice, "Guess I'm just nervous or something,"

The woman arched one thin eyebrow. "That might work on some men, honey, but it won't on me." She released Max's wrist, reached up and fingered a long, fake lock of blonde hair. Max resisted the urge to smack her hand away. She was glad she did when the woman continued.

"My name is Katina. I'm the owner of this club." There was a bit of an accent there, after all. Russian, maybe. It came and it went; guess she'd been living her a long time, long enough to soften the thickness of her voice.

Max smiled slowly, her eyes vacuous. "My name's Dorothy."

"Somehow I doubt that." Her dark eyes were flicking over Max's ensemble, judging, weighing. Finally, her plain, wide face split into a warm smile, but her eyes weren't anything but calculating. "That might work for some of those fisherman traps by the docks, but here we're a little bit more refined… more uniform in appearance…"

Refined? Yeah right. Max dropped the dumb blonde act and huffed in annoyance. "You told me to dress the part."

Katina's smile didn't even flag, further proof it was just a professional veneer. "Have to know if you can… how you say… walk the walk and talk the talk?"

Her voice got snappy despite her best efforts. "And your point is?"

Katina squeezed around her in the small hallway, her broad form stepping surely into the dressing room beyond. Max followed a little grudgingly, conscious of the ear piece still between her breasts, waiting to be hooked up, her two-way connection to Logan. The woman glanced again at Max, quickly, measuring, before turning to a rack and pulling something off. "Point is, less clothes you are wearing in the back door, the more I know what you are capable of wearing out those doors over there." She gestured towards the heavy swinging doors that led into the club proper before she tossed the hanger to Max. "Put this on."

Judging by the outfit, guess Katina had a lot of faith in how few clothes Max could pull off.

Logan owed her so, SO big.

Katina hung around outside the curtains as Max slipped on the bra and the underwear. The earpiece went into her ear, under her wig, but remained off for now. She stared mistrusting at the final piece of the costume. "What is this," She muttered, eyeing the leather chaps, "Rodeo night?"

Logan didn't even KNOW how big he owed her. For the first time in her life, she pondered smacking him upside the head next time she saw him.

The owner's eyes flicked over her approvingly as she stepped out from behind the red drapes in her own high heels. "How are you with rope?"

Max swallowed. If she had to get up on a stage and swing a lasso around because of Logan, she was breaking up with him and that was final.

"Just kidding," Katina smiled, some of her accent bleeding through. "Is joke, yes?"

Very funny. She tried to keep her annoyance to herself. "Why are you helping me?" Max frowned. "Don't you have people to do this for you?"

The Russian smiled. "You, you I have particular use for. One of my best customers, he has a thing for blondes."

Max kept her face neutral. The woman was no slouch, she'd probably be a little put off if Max seemed disgusted by the job she'd been let in here to do. "It's a wig," Max pointed out.

"Doesn't matter," Katina was still smiling, nodding, calculating. "You… you I think he will like…" She glanced away muttering something about the fact he hadn't shown up in a while and blah, blah, blah, the woman was trying to win back one of her favorite customers… who gives a crap? Max would smile at the stupid, pervy old man, wait until Katina left, and slip away before the pig tried to paw at her.

Katina had seen many things in her time. She'd had a hard life; too many husbands, not enough love... Money, at the end of the day, it had to be money that bought happiness for women like her. Which is how she'd dipped her hand into her newest gig and found a market where she could actually do some good, help other women. And of course there was the very lucrative strip club that helped fund her operation... necessary evil that it was, no one could deny she treated her girls far better than they did in any of those claptraps over in Sector 9. She'd come a long way from Russia, from home, from that large, awkward girl of 15, forced into marriage with a man that couldn't find work, could always find the bottom of a bottle, and didn't know the meaning of the word 'tenderness'. Flying all over the world, running her business, strippers and prostitutes in and out of her life, avoiding the heavy hand of the mob and police on the take... Katina was made of steel. Needless to say, very little fazed her.

She was slightly put off, however, when Alec McDowall took one look at the beautiful girl she had taken in off of the street and started laughing.

"You don't like?" Katina almost seemed a little flustered, her cheeks turning as red as her hair, before her broad face went grim and she turned on Max. Max got the feeling that the woman was about to take out her embarrassment by kicking her out of the club.

"No, no, Katina, it's fine," Alec said entreatingly, pulling the woman's attention back as he barely spared a glance at Max's glowering form. "I just forgot that it was western wear night, I guess."

Max glanced around at the other women in the club, similarly dressed (some less so), most with cowboy hats, and rolled her eyes. Idiot.

"Is okay, then? Everything is good?"

Alec smiled winningly, his tongue flicking between his teeth, just for a moment, in wickedness. His eyes swung slowly back to Max. "Fantastic."

"Good," Katina nodded briskly, all business once more. "Hope to see you again, soon, then."

"Do I even need to ask what the hell you're doing here?" Max hissed as the owner walked away, intent upon the bar now that her 'mission' had been taken care of. "Or should I just pretend astonishment that your disgustingness has no bounds, after all."

"Uh huh. That's fascinating, Max," Alec frowned dryly. "'Cuz I already know why you're here."

Max froze. "You know?!" He knew about the slavery/prostitution ring and he hadn't done anything about it?

"Maybe not the details, but I do know one thing… The only reason you'd be here is because Logan sent you." He scoffed, before grinning again. "Is Eyes Only monitoring all of this from mission control or is he waiting outside with a parked car for the getaway?"

Her hands folded protectively under her breasts (she wouldn't be doing that if she knew how even more fascinating that made them look, he thought wryly) and she tried to pretend like it was easy to glower when you're standing before a man in nothing but some dark, ornamental underwear, skintight leather chaps, and three inch heels. "This place happens to be a brothel and slave ring in disguise." She huffed.

Alec smiled slowly. "You don't say," He looked at her, like he knew something she didn't, and it made her angry, angry enough to lean forward and start telling him off, so she was surprised when his eyes flicked past her and a fifty dollar bill was suddenly waving in front of her nose, almost sending her cross eyed.

"Sheath your claws," He murmured, "Katina is watching you."

Max straightened slowly, for all the world giving the impression that she'd just wanted to show off her cleavage. "Why she want to impress you anyway?" Her eyes darted over her shoulder, quickly.

"My attendance at strip clubs has dropped off dramatically," Alec said dryly, slipping the fifty back into his jeans. "And she's always liked me for some reason… me and my money." He amended. What wasn't to like? He was handsome, charming, generous with his cash, always good to the girls... Katina would kill for more regulars like him.

"If you're not big into clubs anymore, what are you even doing here?" She hissed.

Alec gestured with a thumb. "It's his birthday." Max followed his point, glanced across the room… and rolled her eyes. Even from this distance, it looked like Normal was about to float away on a cloud of euphoria.

"Men," She huffed in disugst.

"Yeah, yeah," He scowled, "I was doin' a good job of ignoring everyone until Katina forced you on me. So start dancing or you're going to get us both kicked out." He settled back into the chair, smiling evilly.

"Not on your life!"

"Okay," He sniffed. "Get thrown out. Fail at your mission, I don't care." He sighed. "And here I was thinkin' if you did a convincing enough of a job, I'd take you to the back."

Max froze. "What's in the back?"

Alec scoffed. "What do you think is in the back?" Rooms for rendezvous, for one thing. As for the other thing... well, he knew that too, but he also knew if he told her, she wouldn't believe anyway, would demand to be taken back there to see for herself. Things from the outside looked a little shady until you got on the inside, earned Katina's trust, and she let you in on the secret.

"You tell me," Max scowled. "You're the one that's been back there,"

She released an internal sigh, she wouldn't have to kick his ass after all, when he scowled, protesting, "I've never been back there!"

"Please," She rolled her eyes.

His eyes glinted and the side of his mouth curled in something small and telling. "I don't _pay_ for sex, Max." His smile became even more wicked. Ugh, could he possibly be more full of himself? Like women were throwin' their underwear at him or something, yeah right-

"You done here?" A little blonde was smiling at her entreatingly, her eyes darting towards Alec's appraising smile almost hopefully, and Max frowned.

Ugh. What was it with him and blondes? Max glowered. Alec was leaning forward, saying 'yes' just as she ground out a 'no' and the blonde looked between them both for a few moments before finally retreating, resolving to come back later when the other, almost scary, girl had moved on. Max wondered why the hell Alec looked so unhappy. He'd wanted a lapdance from little tarty blondie? When they were out of here, she was kicking his ass so hard, he wouldn't be able to sit down for a week.

"Max," Alec frowned unhappily after the departing blonde. "You just scared off the last thing that could have saved you from having to dance for me." His eyes swung back to her and why was he almost pleading with her? "Why not just call it a night? Trust me when I tell you Logan has no idea what's going on here."

"And you do?" She hissed. She glanced over her shoulder, and Katina was still watching, taking a sip of water, maybe it was vodka, her eyes hard. Her head whipped back to Alec and she scowled. "Eyes on my face, Pretty Boy, you look down even _once_, and I will find a way to destroy you."

He was about to ask her what the hell she was talking about when her hips started swaying gently in time with the music.

"Max?" His eyes darted up towards her face. It was his worst nightmare, most fervent dream, come to life. He vaguely hoped that the blonde would come back, rescue him from doing something monumentally stupid... which he was sure to try to do if Max kept swaying before him.

"I dance for one song," She hissed, falling still in embarrassment. "Then you take me into the back so I can get this the hell over with,"

His eyes stayed on her face, so he got to see as Max _transformed_. Her normally severe lips lifted in a kittenish half smile. Her eyes, usually narrowed in annoyance, went hooded and dark. He shifted. And that long blonde wig was just so not helping him at all, really it just further disassociated her from the normally dark, closed off entity that she usually was. His eyes darted downwards as she started swaying once more and he realized that watching her get into character might very well kill him.

Max broke character to scowl, just for a moment, as his eyes darted downwards, to her gently moving hips. Her scowl faltered as she watched his eyes darken. Something that looked a whole lot like male appreciation moved across his face, something she hadn't gotten from a non-sleazeball (i.e. the men she had to chat up when workin' on one of Logan's cases) in a long, long while. The rhythm was slow, undulating, the lights pulsating, and her arms lifted over head as her hips moved more surely. Alec's lips pressed together, his eyes narrowed, unable to do anything other than track her sinuous movement, almost hypnotized.

The low lighting, alternating flashes of color, played across that long, blonde hair… glanced across sensuously moving abs… really made everything that much worse when she dipped to her knees, coming back up, hands moving slowly up her thighs, her abdomen, her breasts, fisting in the blonde wig, her head rolling backwards, lips gently parted, eyes mostly closed.

Not closed enough that she didn't see Alec's face twist in something a lot like pain, didn't see him shift once more, awkward, like he- Her eyes dipped down, but it was dark and his pants were loose and oh my god, she so did not just check him for arousal. She turned before his eyes could come back up to her face, could see the beginnings of the blush. A low groan came from behind and she glanced over her shoulder, but he was staring at the wall, the ceiling, anything other than her. She figured out why when his eyes darted towards her swaying, almost exposed ass once more before skittering away in kind of a panic. She couldn't help the smirk tossed over her shoulder. Their eyes connected. Hazel went almost black as he caught her little smirk and it probably wasn't anger. In fact, she knew it wasn't anger when his foot hooked around hers, made her teeter and topple back into him.

She crashed into his lap, he grunted, and a bouncer glanced their way, the sudden movement catching his eyes. Alec lifted his hands, like, see, no touching. She told herself she was only doing it to put the muscle-bound bouncer at ease when her arms lifted overhead, slid through his silky hair, and she moved against him, felt something at her back. Arousal was definitely a go.

She pressed her back into his front, her nails scraping at his neck now; there were no rules, after all, that strippers couldn't touch the customer. She slid against him, and he arched back into the chair, away from her, the smell of her, the feel of her, the need for her. His hands, still held up, hovered just millimeters from her arms, clenching almost helplessly, grasping at air, not touching her, but his face was pained, lookin' for all the world like he wanted to.

"Max," He grunted, unhappy, agonized, against the side of her face, "Why the hell are you doing this?" He had a feeling he knew. It was official; she lived to torture him.

"Shut up. I'm trying to make it convincing," She smiled slowly, releasing her hold on his neck, bringing her arms back down and reaching behind, sliding against tight muscle, grasping at tight thighs, holding him steady as she rocked against him once more, up and down and side to side. His head dropped back into the chair with a grunt.

But not before he caught the scent of something heady, something lush, something so thick and palpable in the air, he could practically taste it.

He vaguely wondered if it was dancing, or if it was dancing for _him_, that turned Max on.

Alec was biting the inside of his cheek, breathing heavily through nostrils, willing his blood to calm, his body to relax, when the song finally, and thankfully, came to an end. When she peeled her ass off of him. He stood slowly, praising God for dim lighting and jeans that hid his erection, before he grabbed at her hand and started pulling her away from the chair. A bouncer eyed him suspiciously, but when it became clear where he was dragging her smiling form, the man went back to lazily scanning the crowd.

Alec wasn't entirely sure how much he tossed at the man waiting by the door, just dug into his pants and blindly pulled out bills, barely pausing. It must've been enough 'cuz the man didn't come after them, just called out, "Twelve's free,"

One, two, four, six… Down the hallway to twelve, Max trotting on high heels to keep up, and Alec pulled her into the small room, fairly filled with the one piece of furniture, the oversized bed. Back here the music wasn't so overwhelming; a low throb moving through the walls.

"So," Max flicked blonde hair out of her eyes, "Where do you think they're keeping-"

The door fell shut behind her with a very loud and audible click, further quieting the noise from the hallway, and Max suddenly found herself very alone with a man that had turned and was watching her with burning eyes. Her words faltered and died and she took a slight step back.

"Relax," His eyes told her not to relax, "I'm not going to fuck you," But his body, all languid and loose, commanding, told her a different story, told her, if he wanted to, he could use it against her, make her beg for it.

Max swallowed, not in fear. "Don't be a pig,"

He took a few small steps, advancing as she retreated. "You know why I don't like strip clubs so much?"

Her back ran into the door. "Don't care," She swallowed again, but her mouth refused to be anything other than dry.

He ignored her, his tone almost conversational. "I mean, overdeveloped senses can be great… but strip clubs and transgenic noses just don't mix." A hard body pressed against hers, a thigh slid up between legs she hadn't known were parted. He wasn't looking her in the eyes anymore; he was looking at her lips, still glistening from the lip gloss, from the quick dart of her tongue. "All that cheap perfume and alcohol…"

"What are you getting at?"

"Just that my nose says you wouldn't make a very good stripper," He smiled slowly, sinfully, a smile of a man that would never, ever have to pay for sex.

"What?" She demanded, wondering why she should be insulted by that. "Why not?"

His hand slid down her side, glanced across her hip, drew her leg up around him and she gasped as he shoved suddenly, and surely, against her. "You enjoy it too much," He smiled into her ear.

She scowled, shoving his suddenly laughing form away. Her eyes darted downwards, looking for the proof of what she'd felt. "You're one to talk." She scowled, unable to stop her face from coloring.

He shrugged, still smiling. "I have a thing for blondes, so sue me."

She didn't sue him, but she did take a swing at him, and it didn't surprise her when he slid out of the way and grabbed at her, using her momentum to send them both crashing into the bed.

"I am not sleeping with you," She hissed, glaring up at him, her head relaxing back into the sheets.

He blinked. "What?" He demanded, pulling away slightly to better look her in the eye. "This was an accident! I don't want to sleep with you!"

"Please," Max rolled her eyes. "You've been trying to get in my pants since Manticore."

"I have not!" He defended. Then smiled wickedly. "Besides, you're not wearing pants. You're wearing chaps. Big diff."

She huffed in annoyance, pushing him off as she sat up, pretending not to notice as his eyes fell to her tightened abs. "Are you going to help me find these kidnapped girls or what?"

Alec pushed back into his knees, smiling broadly. "Max, you do know that Katina heads one of the biggest mail-order bride businesses in the world, right?"

Max's jaw dropped open.

"That slave ring that Logan probably worked you into a frenzy about? Those are men transporting very willing girls to the States so that they can marry lonely, rich old geezers and gain money, citizenship, and the chance at a better life. They spend the night here for a few days before traipsing off to get married." He shrugged. "If they get cold feet, Katina gives them the option of working here… which, according to immigration laws, is kind of illegal, but probably not what Loge-man was going for."

Max's jaw worked in frustration. "Are you kidding me?!" She demanded. She'd just… because Logan had said… and Alec, he… Augh!

He shrugged. "Maybe I don't get it, but it is legal, and the girls are willing. She tried to find me a wife, but I told her thanks, but no thanks, I was already kind of taken,"

Okay, maybe there were some more important things goin' on right now, but she still found herself demanding, "By who?"

"By responsibility, and helping you pick up transgenics, and with Jam Pony, and T.C. and everything." He frowned. "And willing or not, mail-order brides don't really sound like my idea of a party." His eyes flicked over again. "Now, cowgirls, on the other hand," His smile made a reappearance.

"Alec," She started warningly, leaning back into her elbows.

"I have a weakness," He defended, still smiling, leaning forward, over her. "You're tempting me,"

"Alec, that's not funny," She hissed as he pushed her to her back, as she glared at the plaster ceiling, as his lips grazed down her neck, down her collarbone, between her breasts.

"Good thing I'm not laughing," He murmured, and he was still going down, where the hell was he going?

"Alec, what are you doing?" And why was she just staring at the ceiling? Why was she almost paralyzed by the lust?

Steady hands grasped at the insides of her thighs, pushing her legs further apart, gently widening her to his gaze. His wicked lips pressed a full kiss to the soft skin just above the leather of the chaps before he murmured, "Nothin'," Then proved himself a liar by rolling his palm against the damp black material of the underwear that Katina had provided.

Max shot up, her cheeks blazing. "What are you doing?!"

"Nothing," He repeated firmly, soothingly, his hand resting lightly against her, his other hand slowly pushing her back down. "After ten minutes of smelling you, I just want a taste."

Max's brow furrowed as she dropped back into the bed. A taste? Her eyes widened. He couldn't possibly mean-

Max's eyes almost rolled back into her head.

Katina smiled approvingly as Max stepped gingerly from the back room. As she teetered her way back to the dressing room and her own skanky clothes on shaky legs.

"Come back, anytime," Katina pushed some bills into her hands, and Max blinked dumbly at them. She shook her head, sudden realization of what the money was for making her eyes widen. She tossed her cut of Alec's dirty money at some hobo, waiting for scraps, as she booked it out the back door, through the grungy, smelly alley.

She got into the car waiting for her, strangely silent.

"You didn't turn on the ear peice," Logan accused.

And thank god for that. Max remained quiet, blushing slightly.

"So?" Logan demanded.

"Can I borrow a glove?" Max asked, her voice strangled. He frowned in confusion and gestured at the glovebox of the car. Max pulled it open, pulled a glove out, pulled latex across her hand, turned, and popped Logan across the back of the head.

"What the hell?!" He came back up slowly, rubbing gingerly at his scalp.

"I got into the back, talked to some of the girls," Max scowled, still flushed, her angry voice loud in the small enclosed space. "It's a mail-order bride company, you big jerk."

"Max-"

Max shoved herself back into her seat, ripping off the blonde wig, tossing it into the back before yanking down the visor and flipping open the mirror.

"So no prostitution, then?" He sounded almost sad about it.

Max's voice went strangled once more and she wouldn't look at him. He caught her blush in the reflection of the visor's mirror as she pulled her hair from the cap that had kept it in place under the wig. "Use of the backrooms is sanctioned by the club, but they don't force any of the girls into it, just take a cut of the profits. That's pretty normal for these kinds of places, anyway."

"Max, what's wrong?" He glanced, frowning, at the one gloved hand in her lap, still squeezed into a fist. He wondered if she was considering hitting him again. His eyes swung up to her. "Did they make you dance or something?"

But Max wouldn't talk about it, and he didn't want to get popped again (almost made him feel a little bad for Alec) so just put the car into gear and started to slowly pull away. He frowned as he pulled out onto the street, moving slowly past the entrance.

"Hey," He frowned. "Isn't that Alec's bike?" He glanced at Max's blushing (again) face, still silent, and his gaze narrowed in suspicion. It was probably nothing, probably just coincidence… strip clubs always smelled like perfume and alcohol, sweat and sex, so just because Max-

"Can you take me to Alec's?" Max turned to face him, her mind suddenly made up.

"What?" He demanded. "Why?"

Max's eyes gleamed, and Logan caved, turning the steering wheel, because he had the feeling that whatever Max was planning, it probably wasn't nefarious, there'd probably just be some bloodshed involved. Maybe Alec had been in there; had given her a hard time, maybe that's why she was in such a strange mood.

Alec let himself into his dark apartment, rolling his neck. His fingertips pressed gently at one bruising cheekbone as he made his way to his bedroom. He felt bad for ditching Normal, but the side of his face hurt and he was still so ridiculously aroused, bein' in a place that catered to those kinds of needs wouldn't earn him a halo any faster. And with the scent of Max still so completely surrounding him, the sound of her cries so fresh in his ears, the taste of her still in his mouth, he just didn't know if anyone else could do it for him... Not that she had been particularly grateful once the languidness had left her limbs. Jeez, help a friend relieve a little tension and then as soon as you're done lending a helping hand, and mouth, they go and get all crazy on you. He was so miffed, he didn't even realize-

He whirled as a lamp clicked on, as light flooded one dark corner of his apartment, illuminating a figure lounging in his easy chair. He squinted, sensitive eyes rushing to keep up. "Maxie?"

Her voice was low, a little bit dangerous. "You owe me so, so big."

His tongue rolled in his cheek, his eyes glinting playfully, and she shuddered at memories of what that wicked, wicked tongue could do. "Owe you?" He finally asked. "If anything, Max, I think you owe me,"

"Fair is fair," She cocked one eyebrow, the dim light casting shadows across her face. "Eye for a eye… Dance for a dance." The corner of full lips curled into a smile. She shifted and light glanced across a miniskirt that shouldn't even be legal, especially when he was this horny.

He frowned in confusion, sauntering his way back to her slowly. "Wait… so you mean, you didn't come here to kill me?"

"No," She scoffed, "I came here to give you a lesson in abject humiliation." He came to a halt before her, her eyes gleamed up at him in the lamplight, her skin, pushed up by that corset top, called to him, and her face twisted into something wicked. "You owe me. Get dancin', Pretty Boy."

"No way!"

"Do it, or I'll-"

He rolled his eyes. "You'll what? Tattle on me to Logan? Tell him how you danced for me?" He reached forward, his hand slid around her neck, fisting in her own dark hair. He forced her head back as he leaned down, his breath glanced across the lips he couldn't look away from as he murmured, "Tell him how you kept saying my-"

Her heeled foot caught him right in the shin and he reared away in pain, releasing her in favor of hobbling around, clutching at his leg.

"Drama queen," She rolled her eyes.

"Bitch," He whined. And she knew she had already halfway won. She leaned back into the chair, arms folding across her chest.

"But I don't wanna," He frowned down at her, releasing his leg.

She shrugged, relaxed. "It's like I said, eye for an eye. Dance for a dance." He scowled, but would freeze, hair almost standing on end, when her low voice danced through the room… "Taste for a taste."

He stared at her for a long moment, before he finally managed a dumb, "Oh. Well, why didn't you say so?"


	14. UV

Yes, I'm alive and back from mil. training. Joy.

U was written by request for **quirkies** who said:

_::dude, i just re-watched "some assembly required". and that moment when zack recognizes max and drops alec, and max and zack just walk away with no further thought to our boy - that moment bothers me. is there any way you could fix that? like max realizes alec __is part of her Unit and makes it up to him later that night.::_

V was written by request for an anonymous reader on my LiveJournal who wanted:

_-a situation where Max moves away from Logan on her own, without the sudden-realization-type plots like where she suddenly drops Logan after all her pining and starts with the oh-I'm-in-love-with-Alec thoughts all in a span of a day, and actually starts to move on? I'd love to see how Alec responds to Max dating different guys, since in a lot of the stories I've been reading has mostly Max watching Alec flirt with chicks while she glares and gets jealous. It makes me miss season 1 Max-_

So, boom, here ya go.

* * *

_U is for Unit_

Rated T

* * *

He does this thing where he cocks his head to the side and he looks right at you. And you wonder, is he looking _at_ me, or is he looking _into_ me? Some days, when there's a little darkness in his eyes, you wonder if he even sees you at all.

But what does she care? It's not like he's a part of her unit. In fact, he'll _never_ be a part of her unit.

…So why the hell does she feel so damn guilty?

Maybe guilt was a little bit too strong of a word. Max just knew that she felt… something… which may or may not have had _something_ to do with the fact that she may have kind of left him there in the dirt and filth of that back alleyway as she and Zack (who he'd totally been right about, but whatever, she wasn't telling _him_ that) had wandered off.

Maybe it's because, lately, when Alec looked at her, she actually looked back.

Max can remember a time when she didn't look back. When she _couldn't_ look back, because she couldn't see past his surface; _Ben's_ surface. At least not before the guilt and horror started welling, started crawling into her hands, reminding her what it feels like as somebody's neck snaps beneath your fingertips. She couldn't stand it, so usually she'd catch his probing gaze for just a heartbeat before looking away from his always intent stare. Or maybe she'd let her eyes just glance across his familiar features before staring a little bit to the left of him, at some point just over his shoulder. Maybe she'd pretend disinterest in his words, for the sole purpose of not having to face him. It used to be that the only time Max ever really looked at Alec was when she was angry at him, because when she was mad, she could hardly equate him to the psychotic man that she'd put down; the man that, at some point a very, very long time ago, had been gentle, a boy that she had loved better than all the others. After Zack had left, though, that had all changed. After she'd lost another member of her unit, after she'd willingly sent him away, that's when she'd really started looking back.

Maybe she should be glad Alec wasn't part of her unit. Maybe that meant he was safe from her and her poison.

Today, though… Today, Max didn't bother. Didn't look into glowing green mirrors, because she knew what she'd see; same as yesterday, and the day before that. It'd been the same since Zack, since she'd left him there in the dust and squalor of that alleyway. She'd first seen it in Crash, when he tried to warn her of her brother's infatuation, and she'd blown it off because she had better things to not worry about. In retrospect, that might have made it all worse. Zack was gone, and one week later, Alec's eyes were still drowning and Max couldn't look or she'd drown too.

Weariness. Exasperation. A hint of hysterical laughter, at himself and his own perceived unimportance, and at her and her inflated sense of self, and again at himself because he can't decide who disgusts him more. Anger, because he's sick of her and he's sick of Seattle but he's still fucking _here,_ and loss, because he doesn't know where else to go or if he even wants to.

Max doesn't doubt that one day she'll show up to work and he'll be gone. Good riddance, she'll say to herself, and probably to Cindy, and definitely to Logan. Logan will probably agree, even if he will look at her a little too knowingly. Cindy will purse her lips and nod, after a moment or so… And maybe they might both suspect, but the only person that will _really_ know what a liar she is herself… because she's not ready for him to go, not really.

Sure she'll scowl and frown and tell him he's worthless and better off gone, but she doesn't want him to leave, at least not _forever_. He's her last link to Ben, even if he's only a face, and she can't stand the thought that Ben's face might be out there somewhere, getting itself shot at it. Can't abide the notion that hazel eyes might close once more and it will be all her fault.

Sometimes, she wonders if it's more than that. If she's used to him for the sake of _him_. If she's grown accustomed to _his_ face, as weird as that sounds, not because he looks like Ben, but because he's himself and he's part of her life now and those thoughts were so completely ridiculous, Max refused to think them whenever they cropped up. Even if part of her did liken him to a mangy mutt, figuratively speaking; the type that followed you home and maybe he smelled and maybe you didn't much like him at first, but you had this responsibility to care for him and then he started to grow on you and then suddenly you were buying a leash and a collar cuz you were afraid one day he might wander off and your life wouldn't be the same without him. It was a good analogy, 'cuz Max didn't much care for dogs, either.

Wait… What had she been thinking about? Oh, right, Alec. In the depths of her heart, Max no longer wanted Alec gone. Maybe for a few hours, here and there, but nothing permanent.

Even if he wasn't part of her unit.

So today, when he cocked his head to the side and looked at her, and today there's loathing there too so it won't be much longer before he leaves, she still looks away, but only because she's looking down. At his neck. At five oval circles, barely bruises anymore, hardly visible really, that circle his throat.

"Almost all healed up," She leaned into the lockers and he won't concede, won't lean away, or even act like her presence affects him. Just stands there, she put herself too close to him, and he is as steady and unmoving as stone. After a moment, it was her that started to get uncomfortable.

"Almost gone," He nodded back, and when she glanced up his eyes were harder than a rock wall. He's shut down all those drowning thoughts, hiding himself away from her. _Almost gone_ seems to hold a hint of something more; like maybe he was almost ready to be done with Seattle and away from her.

Panic can make us say some strange things.

"Coming to Crash tonight?"

Weariness will make it so that we don't play along.

"What do you want, Max?"

_To apologize_.

"To find out what the hell is wrong with you," She scowled instead, her arms folding stubbornly across her chest.

He smiled at her snapped reply and he answered her lie with another. "Me? Nothing's wrong with me." He leaned in, a small, innocent movement that seemed unplanned, but they both knew wasn't. They both knew his closeness was what was making her antsy, making her squirm. They both knew she'd never admit it. His smile turned into something soft and amused, his eyes lighting, momentarily, as he took in the stubborn set of her jaw. "Maybe there's something wrong with _you_. Something eating you, Max?"

_Yes. _

She looked away, because her eyes were giving her away; she's not as good at the Manticore mask as he is. She can shut down her face, but not her eyes. He's had more practice. And he can see right through her.

But he doesn't care, or at least that's what he tries to tell himself. Something wrong in poor Maxerella's life? Not his problem. If _he_ wasn't worth her time, why the hell should he give a damn about _her_?

When Max looked back, he'd straightened, and all his softness was gone. His eyes were so hard they could have cut diamonds. In true Alec form, his voice remained playful as he asked, "Logan not singing your praises lately?" He affected a look of knowing horror. "Oh, I know, somewhere there's a kitten up a tree and your whole world is in turmoil until you can rescue it. Am I right?"

"No, but you are an asshole." Max straightened from her lean with a scowl, her arms falling back to her sides, her fists clenching, and a very large part of her wondered why the hell she bothered. But she pressed on anyway and just came out and demanded it. "Is this about the whole 'unit' thing?"

Any other man might react; maybe stiffen, glance away, or maybe fall motionless. Alec is still smirking as he asks, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Is that what's eating you?" She demanded again. "Are you all pissed because I told Zack that you're not part of our unit?"

The smile fell. Only Alec was left. He seemed genuinely surprised as he asked, "Why would I be mad about that? It's the truth; I'm _not_ part of your unit." That could have been it, but he swept past her and its like time slows down and somehow, just for a moment, his lips are by her ear and his soft words are silky and caressing. "I didn't _run_."

It's funny how he can make such a small little word in such seductive tones sound so dirty and demeaning, so backed with the pointed force of a thousand venomous tongues, ringing with the echoing might of something that sounds a lot like _payback_.

And then he's gone. Walking through Jam Pony, whistling, waving goodbye to Sketchy. If Max's mind wasn't so completely blank, she might have likened him to a magician.

It wasn't until about half a second later that she regained enough brain function to get angry.

She whirled around, ready to spew acid as he sauntered away, ready to demand he get his _ass_ back here, _now_, but Cindy had sidled up and was eyeing his backside with undisguised distrust. Like maybe she thought his lips were too close to her boo's ear or something. Max couldn't correct her, couldn't tell her that for the very first time in the two months that she'd known him, he'd actually sounded like… well, he'd sounded like _them_. Like all the other transgenics at Manticore, the ones that had hated her. He… he wasn't supposed to sound like that. Max couldn't say anything to Cindy because she was still battling her surprise, which was telling her to run after him and demand to know if he really meant it, and her anger, which was telling her to stomp after him and pop him in the face.

The middle of Jam Pony isn't the best place to get into an aggressive, rage-fueled, confusion-filled, no-holds-barred transgenic fight, though, so she resolved to kick his ass later. And it wasn't till later that she realized that she wasn't entirely sure where he lives right now; he's still kind of transitory, skipping from one place to another. The one time she'd been willing to take him home, despite the fact he'd lost her damn baseball, they'd had to stop at a checkpoint because he hadn't had a sector pass yet… So she knew that he was in sector three somewhere, she just wasn't sure where. No _way_ she'd ask Normal, but when she sucked it up and asked Sketchy, even _he_ didn't know where Alec was spending his nights. Maybe Alec was used to keeping his movements on the down low, or maybe he had just never really planned to stick around in the first place, but whatever it is, she's not sure how she's going to kick his ass when she can't even find the damn thing.

Not that it matters, because later that night, he found her. And as if it wasn't bad enough that she couldn't track him, but he showed up, not only on her doorstep, but also inside her apartment, on her couch, and his hand was in her favorite box of cereal. From how deep he was digging, he'd apparently been spending the better portion of the evening depleting its contents.

"How'd you figure out where I live?" She scowled from the doorway, hoping maybe he'd wrangled it out of Normal.

He smiled and stuffed another handful of _her_ cereal into _his_ mouth. He's taunting her and judging from the color rising in her cheeks, it's working. The door swung shut and he set down the box. She shrugged out of her jacket and he stood, cracking his neck to the side.

"Cool it, tough guy," She rolled her eyes, "I'm not going to fight you."

For the first time, he actually looked a little surprised. "What?" After a moment, he added, at a loss. "Why not?"

Jeez. Did he _want_ to fight? Maybe he wanted an excuse to leave. Maybe he just wanted to work out some aggression. Max did her best to conveniently forget that she'd been trying to find him earlier for the express purpose of hurting him, because something small in her, that small something that doesn't want him gone, tells her to back off. She swiped her box of cereal, mostly empty, from her coffee table instead and peered into it, frowning. "Do you know how hard it is to get this stuff?" She grumped, annoyed.

He blinked, because he came here to fight, to find a reason, and now he's not sure what to do with himself. Sometimes Alec seriously wonders if she's bipolar; how can she switch from zero to bitch quite so quick? Something else in him shifts, darkens, as a snarling voice whispers that maybe he's reached a level of unimportance in her life that even fighting him is not worth her precious time.

"What's that look for?" She asked, her face twisting when his expression became dark and angry. He schooled it back to normal, and like ripples fading across a pond, after a moment it's like his surface was never disturbed to begin with.

Outside, it's started raining. Been trying to rain all day, he points out, like he came over here with the express purpose of being her own personal captain of the obvious.

"It's Seattle," She frowned. "It rains. Get used to it."

"Went to Florida once," He mused aloud. "It rained, but at least it was warm."

"So go to Florida," She shrugged, pretending nonchalance, because as much as she doesn't _want_ him to go, she can't let _him_ know that.

He eyed her, and for a moment looked uncomfortable in his own skin. Like maybe he's not sure why he's here. "Maybe I will."

It was a pointless conversation. Max was no more sure of his intentions of staying in Seattle than he was of leaving. And they were both left a little moody, unhappy, frowning at each other across a room.

He was almost gone when he paused and glanced back. "I don't care, you know."

She opened her mouth to make some kind of smart ass comment, to pretend like she had no idea what he was talking about, when he added sardonically. "I haven't had a unit since 2009, I could give a crap that I'm not part of yours."

_Liar, liar, pants on fire. _It echoes like a forgotten dream from a long ago memory of two little girls, one playing in sunshine, the other hanging back, watching in kind of wonder. She wants to hold the memory up to him, show him, _see_, you don't have to be part of my unit for me to care about you… But the thought unnerved her, because not only does she _not_ care for him, she doesn't even particularly _like_ him.

"2009?" She made a face instead.

"You do the math," He challenged back, and then, suddenly, he was gone, leaving her standing alone in her living room, facing a closed door. And for the second time that day, Max got a hint that even though he'd never treated her the way the other transgenics had (It was a trick, her mind argues, it was all a ploy directed by Renfro, he's always hated you, but she shoves the voice away because she doesn't think it much matters when it comes to Alec; he's always done things his own way, and he's never hated her) that maybe, just maybe, she had screwed up his life long before he'd come around to ruin hers.

Max hates guilt. She's only really come to know the damning emotion in the past year, but the now familiar taste of it is bitter in her mouth.

Whatever.

He's not at work the next day and she almost freaks out, maybe she read him wrong, until she realizes that it's his day off.

He's not at work the day after that, either, and Max finally sucked it up and asked Normal where Alec spent his nights. Normal didn't want to tell her, but he finally caved 'cuz Golden Boy hadn't been answering his cell, and Normal was a little worried about him in that odd, over-protective, mother-hen, hero-worshipping way of his.

He was smack dab in the heart of sector three. There was a duffel just inside the door. It was half-full. Maybe it was half-empty. Had he been putting stuff in or taking stuff out? Max grabbed the blue bag by the handles, stalked into his bedroom, and tossed it on the bed.

"What the hell is this?"

"Max?" He sat up in bed, the sheets pooled around his hips, and her eyes flicked disdainfully over an expanse of skin that, over a year ago, before Ben, before Logan, she probably would have found impressive.

She cocked her head to the side, her expression both annoyed and indifferent all at once. He's not entirely sure how she pulls it off. "Going somewhere, Pretty Boy?"

He snorted, flopped back down to his stomach and laid his head on his arms. Max added his broad shoulders and lean back to the things that she's definitely not interested in.

"Really don't think that's any of your business," He breathed into his arms, like he's trying to force himself into relaxation, into sleep. She'd have believed his nonchalance more if she couldn't see the muscles in the back that she's not interested in tense.

Her voice was bright, deceptively so. "Well, it kinda is when I know that I'll be getting a call from you in a couple of days, asking me to come bail your ass out of trouble."

He's out of bed and on his feet so quickly, a normal human's eyes would have had trouble tracking his movement. Max's eyes aren't normal though; she sees more than a blur of movement. She sees strength gather in his muscles, ripple outwards. She sees his body twist, as sinuous as a cat's. She sees him roll off the bed, land on his feet, and rise like a predator, all in the blink of an eye.

She doesn't care, though, because she was busy telling herself that she wasn't interested in his abs, either. Or the hint of hipbones, doing their best to keep sweatpants on lean hips. Or the darkness in his eyes, the hint of danger, that makes something in her thrill.

"Put some clothes on," She heard herself snap.

The predatory anger melts away and all that was left on his face was exasperation. "Max, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Normal practically forced me to come over and check on you," She lied easily, cocking her head to the side. "You too good for work now?"

There's that hint of disgust again, that hint of something that would one day turn to real hate unless she stopped it. "There's only one person in this room that thinks they're too good for anything, Max, and it sure as hell isn't me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her face twisted.

"I think you know exactly what I mean, princess."

Her disbelieving laugh is sharp and ready. "Oh, that's it." She shrugged out of her jacket and he couldn't stop his eyes from glancing down, from taking in plain clothing that does little to hide the genetic perfection of her body. She tossed her hair and her fists came up and his eyes snapped back to her face. "You're gonna get it now."

"Am I?" Alec replied in something that could have been mistaken for bored disinterest if it weren't for his eyes. Alec's eyes weren't lying right now, they were sharp, interested, and staring right at her. Alec had always loved a challenge. "And who's going to give it to me?"

Part of him wonders, right before he ducks out of the way of her quick fist, if she's just trying to get his aggression out in the open, if she's trying to turn him back into the bitch that will just take her shit.

Alec is nobody's bitch, least of all hers.

It's his fist that makes the first connection, and he tells himself not to feel guilty when she slowly straightens and her hand comes up to wipe away blood from the corner of her lips. Do you think she ever feels guilty when she lays one on you, he hissed to his mind, but his mind was still busy feeling a bit like a sleaze-ball. Which is maybe how she got through his defenses and popped him a good one, right in the mouth.

"God, I fucking hate you."

Max tenses, freezes, as the words come crashing out from his slightly hunched position. He doesn't sound exasperated. He doesn't sound broken, or tired. It sounds like a statement of fact; a fact that she doesn't want to hear.

When her panicked eyes refocused, he was standing tall again, and the side of his mouth was slightly pink from the force of her blow. He was glaring at her, eyes narrow. "Everything, every_one_, it's all just a game to you. Everything is just a toy."

"That's amazing," she replied when she found her voice, "Cuz everything to you is a joke."

He advanced on her. "Well, I'm not joking now. You think you can pick something up, play with it, and leave it in the dirt when you're done? Got news for you, sister, you keep at it, and one day, it really will be only you and your sanctified unit, 'cuz everyone else will have given up on you, and all your bullshit, and finally left."

How many times had she heard those very same words, ringing in her own mind? Hearing them out loud… Something in her cringed, cried out, but what defense could she possibly have against the truth?

He was still advancing, but instead of getting right up on her tense, frozen position, he swept past her and made a grab for the duffel on the bed, widening the opening with every intention of grabbing more clothing to stuff in.

He can't wait to get out of here. He hates her. He hates how selfish she is. He hates how she can treat people like they're nothing with hardly even a thought. He hates how he doesn't really hate her. And he can't really hate her, because as selfish as she is, she's also really noble. As uncaring and cruel as she can be, he doesn't know anyone that's as good as she is. He thinks that maybe he hates himself and his confusion the most.

And then she just had to go and fucking throw him for another loop. Her words were rushed, so much so that it takes them both a moment to realize that she said, "Please don't go."

Please don't go? _Please don't go?! _He turned on her. "_What_? Are you _kidding_?"

She looked away, ashamed that she had even said that much.

He was still staring at her in disbelief. "A person could go _crazy_ trying to figure you out. You've made it pretty clear over the last couple of weeks that I could drop dead and you wouldn't give a damn, and now you're saying you don't want me to leave?"

"Forget it," she muttered, embarrassed, and turned on her heel.

But he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back around, and his eyes were narrow and weighing as he did that thing where he cocked his head to the side and he looked _into _her.

"Give me a reason to stay," He said, his soft voice strangely loud in the enclosed space of the bedroom. When she refused to open her mouth, he shook his head. "Come on, Max, obviously this is eating you or you wouldn't have stopped by in the first place, much less _asked _me to stay."

She can't tell him about Ben. She can't tell _anyone_ about Ben. Can't tell him that she needs him around, living and laughing and breathing and talking, even if he wasn't Ben, even if he's nothing like Ben. Nor can she tell him he's a mangy mutt and she can't imagine life without him. So she just stared at him, face blank.

He laughed under his breath at her blank face. It's probably how he would react if he were in her shoes. "Come on, _Maxie_, are you going to make me guess?"

Max wrenched her wrist away from him, a small part of her amazed at his truly awesome powers of making her hate him and entranced by him at the same time.

"I know," He snapped his fingers like it just occurred to him. His eyes are dark now, and she's back to the point of wondering if he even sees her. "You were just joshing that day you let your cyborg brother choke me and drop me in the dirt. Didn't really mean it when you just walked off and left me there like a piece of garbage." He focused back upon her, eyebrows rising in an expression of mocking disbelief. "Is that it, Maxie? You come all the way over here to tell me I'm really a part of your unit after all?"

So, she feels like a jerk for the whole 'leaving Alec in the dirt' thing. Even if he sometimes kind of deserved it. Like right now. But the 'unit' thing- that's what prompts her mouth to open before she could really collect her thoughts. "You'll never be part of my unit."

The way she says it, direct and open, no animosity, just truth, makes him freeze.

"Well," He finally manages. And that's all he can manage. What can he say? Can't admit that he wants to be part of her life… Can't act annoyed without cluing her in. So he left it at that and turned away from her, shutting down everything but motor function. Even his thoughts were silenced as he stared blankly at the rumpled bed, at the duffel bag he would finish packing as soon as she was gone.

He's so still… She can't tell if she hurt him or if he doesn't care.

"I'm sorry," Fingertips reached forward, pressing slightly into the warm skin of a tense back. "But I… I just can't think of you as a brother."

If she'd thought he was still before, that was nothing compared to the sudden freeze of all movement, muscles locked in place. He turned slowly towards her after a moment and she pulled her hand back quickly, like she shouldn't be seen touching him or something. "What did you just say?" He demanded.

"The whole 'unit' thing… I just…"

"So let me get this straight…" He made a face, interrupting her. He mulled it over for a few more seconds before making another face and throwing in some air quotations. "Only people you count as true 'siblings' get involved in your 'unit'?"

Yes, that was exactly what she was saying. Because there are units, like Manticore units, thrown together, forced to work together, blending easily with the strength of military training. And then there's Max's unit, which was so much more than that. It was a family, children that had grown up together and loved each other as siblings, enough so that they'd risked it all and broken out, and the term, when used by Max to describe the other escapees from 2009, had come to be synonymous with all of those things. It was a complex web, and Alec, having not been there, could simply not be included.

She frowns and looks down and opens her mouth, thinking maybe she can try and explain it, but she's interrupted by his sudden relaxation and slight shrug.

"I can live with that,"

"What?" She demanded, floored by his sudden change in attitude. They'd just _fought_- And now he- "But I thought you were all bent out of shape because I-"

"Pfft, who wants to be part of your smelly old unit, anyway?" Alec waved away her wide-eyes, suddenly the easy-going man she was used to dealing with once more.

"Besides," he added after a momentary pause, his eyes moving up slowly to capture hers, catching her with green and gold that she's sure will sear straight into her soul. "Who says I could ever think of you as a sister?"

He takes a small step forward, and suddenly he's a stranger that she doesn't know how to deal with, doesn't know how to respond to. His voice is soft and dangerous in the suddenly too small space of the bedroom. "And who says I want _you_ to think of me as a brother?"

She's sure that at some point in her life she had a brain, but right now it's completely silent as she blinks in something a lot like shock, unsure what to say or how to act or-

The stranger with the dangerous smile is still advancing on her, though, and she sucks in a quick breath, hoping oxygen will jump-start her mental processes. His eyes are narrowed, introspective; his voice is still far too low for polite conversation. "Did you really come all this way just to make sure I wasn't skipping town?"

Part of her wants to deny that she'd come over for even that much; the rest of her, the fearful parts, are screaming at her to pop him in the face and demand to know what other possible reason she could have for barging in on him. Not to see him half-naked, that's for sure. Not to let him saunter up to her, to let his eyes slide across her bottom lip. Not to let his hand grasp her hip, and not to gasp as he pulls her in and their bodies collide. No, she came over here to hit him.

Which she does quite well, folding him over with an 'oof'.

"Get over yourself, Romeo," She rolled her eyes, stepping a safe distance away from him.

"Well, Juliet, you ain't." He straightened easily, proof that her light-fisted pop hadn't actually done any damage, much less hurt. Proof, also, that he was just as much of a drama queen as she had already known. It's back to the usual way of dealing with him, which means she is wholly unprepared when he takes a smooth step forward, his arm slides behind her shoulders, he tugs her in, and his mouth is suddenly pressed against her own.

It's him that's watching as her eyes widen. It's him that's watching as her eyes start to close. It's him that's the one to pull away, to step away, to look at her in perfect neutrality as her eyes snap back open and her fingertips press to her lips, just for a moment. It's her that finally manages to shakily demand, her hand dropping away, "What the hell was that?"

"Friendly reminder for the future, in case your feelings towards me start changing." His lips quirked upwards. "I'm not your brother, and I never will be. And if you think that by keeping me around, I'll turn into him-"

"Don't be an idiot," She looked away, unable to tell him that that was the very last thing she wanted to happen. Mostly because her brother had been a serial killer. Partly because there was part of Ben's memory that was still treasured. And maybe a small teeny bit was because her lips were still warm from the force of his own.

"Glad we're on the same page then." Then he tossed himself back on the bed, and for a moment, Max admitted that he did have a rather nice back. Then her face twisted back into a scowl.

"You're such a pig! If you _ever_-"

"Yeah, yeah," He waved it away before burying his face into pillows. "Don't worry, it won't happen again. And I won't tell a soul, much less Logan." She thought she might have heard him mutter, "Like I'd admit to kissing a raging bitch like you," but she ignored it because she didn't think that she had the mental fortitude to stick around and kick his ass. Not when touching him seemed like it could be so very dangerous right now.

He was at work the next day, and he barely looked at her, dropping his jacket next to her on the bench and passing her up in favor of hunting down Lorraina, the latest in his string of soon-to-be conquests.

"Huh," O.C. had watched him pass, and more importantly, had watched Max watching him pass, and shook her head, "Didn't think Hot Boy would be coming back to work." She was eyeing Max in impatience, like, _I know you went over there, so fess up._ But Max just shrugged and turned away. Cindy couldn't stand it though, and finally just outright demanded, "Alright, cut the act. Sketch _jus'_ got down telling me that Alec said he was skipping town. So, why's he back Max?"

Max started. That little rat. He had been planning on leaving after all. "How should I know?" She shrugged, instead. "Jus' cuz we're both from Manticore doesn't mean we share every little thing. It's not like he was a part of my unit or anything."

O.C. pursed her lips and fixed her with a telling stare. "Not your old one, no."

Max opened her mouth, took in a breath, but finally just opted for silence, staring at O.C. in surprise.

"Jus' sayin," Cindy shook her head, standing from the bench and makin' her way towards the bathroom. Max stared after her for a moment, before standing with a huff.

Alec was leaning over Lorraina, a roguish kind of grin on his face, when Max appeared from nowhere. "Can I talk to you?" Her eyes darted towards the pouting blonde. "_Alone_?"

After Lorraina had slunk off, and it was just the two of them, standing behind the lockers, Alec fixed her with a bland face. "So? Talk."

It happened in an instant. Her hands slid across the side of his face, into his hair, and her mouth fused over his own. Alec's brain shut down as he felt her body press into his, her mouth move over his own. He didn't even get a chance to respond, because by the time he had kick started his mind into working, she was pulling away, walking away, muttering to herself.

"Yep, definitely don't think of him like a brother. Don't know what the hell O.C. is talking about anyway. New unit my ass. Like it's even possible a unit could only have two people in it. Unless maybe Josh was part of it too-" Her angry mumbles continued all the way out the door. Alec knew, 'cuz he watched her the entire way, a soft, bemused kind of expression on his face.

"I saw you," O.C. said blandly and Alec jumped, reaching for his heart.

"God, Cindy, what the hell?! You scared the crap out of me!"

"Don't even think about it, Pretty Boy." Cindy was still staring blandly at him, leaning into the lockers by his side.

"What? I wasn't thinkin' nothing."

"Mmhmm," Cindy's pursed lips told him she thought him a liar, and a bad one at that. She added, after a moment, "Max is too good to just be another notch on your bedpost."

"Seriously, Cindy, no idea what you're talking about." He grabbed for his jacket, still discarded on the bench. "Me n' Max, we're not like that."

"Yeah," Cindy snorted to herself as she watched Hot Boy walk off. "Where have I heard that one before."

But she smiled as she heard Alec muttering to himself, underestimating her hearing, maybe just caught up in his own angry mumble, "'Sides, Max? She could never be a notch. She'd be the whole fuckin' bed."

And even though Hot Boy could be kinda annoying sometimes… well, Cindy hoped that Max got over the whole 'unit' mentality one day and opened her eyes. 'Cuz Manticore really did know how to make 'em pretty. She smirked before grabbing her own jacket, following them for a lunch break, a long line, and bickering that seemed so normal it was almost telling.

-

* * *

V is for Vow

Rated T+, maybe a light M

* * *

-

"And then she dumped me. Dumped _me_." He'd never sounded so disgusted in his entire life.

Max snorted. "So you've been saying… for the last hour."

"I mean," Alec continued, like he hadn't heard her. "Who dumps _me_? That's my job! I'm the dump_er_, not the dump_ee_."

Max sighed, sinking low into the table, burying her face into her arms. "This conversation is rapidly approaching the ridiculous."

"Y'know," He said, like it'd just occurred to him. "I wouldn't be surprised if she was just using me." His head swung to Max, his eyes round and horrified.

Max rolled her eyes as she glanced up. "For what? Your scintillating intellect?"

His mouth twisted into a little smirk, and he leveled her with a knowing look. "I think we both know for what, Max."

"Yeah, right." Max snorted, ignoring his look, so full of meaning, as she sat back up. "If you're such a tomcat in the sack, why'd she dump you?"

Alec opened his mouth, then paused, having to think it through. "Actually," He frowned, musing aloud. "I'm not sure. I remember her saying it was over… then there was all this _talking_," he made a face, like talking was the _worst_, "and how can I be expected to pay attention when she'd just dumped me?"

"You tuned her out?!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Alec huffed. "Aren't you forgetting the part where _I_ was the one dumped? How can you expect my delicate psyche to sit through something like that?"

"You tuned her out and you _left_ her there?!"

Man, she knew him too well. "Some best friend you are." Alec sniffed, grabbing for his beer. "Aren't you supposed to let me cry on your shoulder? Not break out the piercing, accusatory tones."

"And you wonder why you she broke up with you." Max shook her head, reaching for her own frosted glass.

"Not really," Alec shrugged, releasing his glass before even taking a sip. "I knew she wanted something more, but I told her from the beginning it was only gonna be about sex."

"You did what?" Max demanded in surprise, "And she dated you anyway?" They both knew that Alec's now-ex girlfriend had a soft spot for him that went far deeper than something as superficial as a booty call. Max had been vaguely sure that Alec would actually settle down with this one… at least for a little while. Well, it had only lasted a month, so guess not.

"Well… in so many words, I told her," Alec hedged, shrugging, his shoulders rising and falling in his simple black t-shirt, almost in guilt.

But Max was eyeing him, up and down, in suspicion. "What _exactly_ did you say?"

"Just said that I wasn't really in the right headspace to be thinking about a long-term relationship." He shrugged again. "Then I told her we'd see how it played out." Max's eyes narrowed in incredulity, but he ignored it, and he kept talking before she could go and get even more accusatory on him, "Speaking of long-term, how's your latest attempt coming along?"

Max made a face, taking a sip of her beer, before setting it back down. Diversion successful, Alec noted. She didn't want to go into it, he could tell, so he just sat patiently, staring her down. "Steve?" She finally asked with a shrug, almost unwilling to admit, "Had to let him go."

Alec didn't seem all that surprised as he released a breath and leaned back on his barstool. Steve hadn't even lasted two weeks. "Really? Why?"

"He asked how many kids I wanted. And if I wanted to wait five years or get started right after the wedding." Max glowered.

"Uhhh… Max… you know those are the types of things you go over when you're dating, right? It's called conversation. It doesn't necessarily mean he-"

"And he ironed his jeans," Max interrupted, annoyed. "I mean, who _does_ that?"

Alec paused for a long moment. "Good point." Then he shook his head. "Sort of. Come on, Max, don't you think that sometimes you might be a little too… picky?"

"I am _not_ picky." She ground out.

Yeah right.

"Aren't you the one who broke up with Jesse, 'cuz he said he wanted to own a dog… _one day_? And weren't you the one that kicked Rafer to the curb just 'cuz he had a small apartment?"

Max refused to give an inch, sticking by her defense and glowering at him. "There was only like a foot of space from either side of his bed to the walls, okay? It was ridiculous… And it wasn't even a big bed!"

Alec looked a little disgruntled. "Please stop talking."

Max scowled, ignoring him. "So maybe I am a little picky. ("A _little_?" Alec demanded) But what do you expect? How am I supposed to go from a guy that I thought I was going to marry, back into the shallow, meaningless end of the dating pool?"

"I did, after Rachel." Alec shrugged. "You just have to pick up your feet and keep going."

"Are you kidding?" Max demanded. "It took you a year after that whole Berrisford thing until you started dating again. And even then, none of your relationships have lasted over a week."

"Hey!" He defended. "This one lasted a month, okay?" Yes, she was well aware, because he'd spent the entire month whining to her, trying to find a way out of it. And now he was all annoyed because she had broken up with him? Men.

"Besides," He continued with a huff, "I'm just not looking for something big and awe-inspiring right now, okay?"

"Hence why you've burned through almost every girl in this place,"

Alec glanced around. "There does seem to be a lot of my exes here tonight." And most of 'em didn't look terribly happy to see him. Maybe coming to Crash had been a bad idea. Especially when he caught a flash of blonde hair, a slim form making its way down the steps, the woman glancing around.

"Quick," Alec's eyes widened. "Hide me,"

"What?" Max demanded, as he slunk down and tried to hide behind her back, pushing and pulling her into optimum Alec hiding positioning. "Why?"

His voice from behind sounded panicked. "Asha just walked in."

Max looked, and Asha had indeed come in through the front door and down the steps, and she was staring right at their table, her mouth slightly open, her eyes slightly narrowed, squinting in disbelieving annoyance at Alec's broad form, hunkering behind Max.

"I hate to break it to you, Sneaky McSneakerson, but I think she's spotted you."

Alec sat up slightly, peeking over Max's shoulders, wincing when their eyes connected, Asha's mouth snapped shut, and she started walking their way. He sighed, sitting back up slowly. Maybe he could pretend he'd dropped a fork… down the back of Max's pants or something. And he'd just been trying to rescue it. Yeah… that's what he'd do.

He straightened slowly. "No worries!" He said loudly, palming a fork off the table, reproducing it in a flashy wave. How embarrassing, people at the other high top tables actually turned to look. "Got that fork that fell!"

"Smooth, Alec." Max rolled her eyes, as Asha's slim form made her way towards them. She slowed to a halt, glancing between the two transgenics, before managing a soft, "Hey."

"Oh, Asha," Alec looked bored and bland and totally faking as he tossed the fork back on the table. "Didn't see you there." Max rolled her eyes. Asha just looked all uncertain, her eyes on Alec.

"How… How are you?" She asked, glancing down.

"Me?" He rolled his shoulders, looking away. "Fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Because she just dumped you, for one, and you've been whining about it for an hour, Max thought to herself. But typically, Alec pretended nonchalance. Seemed like Max was the only female that could get any honesty out of him.

Asha must not have bought it either, because she started towards him, her hand outstretched, her voice pained, "Alec." But Alec just stared at her, stony-faced and impassive.

"See," Asha shook her head, letting her hand drop back to her side. Her voice, when it came again, was much harder and a little dictatorial. "This is what I'm talking about. You're emotionally unavailable, Alec."

But Alec's face had taken on a sudden, glazed appearance, and Max was half afraid he was going to start drooling if Asha kept talking. Which she did.

"I mean, how am I supposed to be your girlfriend if you never talk to me? You always run off and talk to Max, no offense Max (Max shrugged, "None taken.") and I'm supposed to just sit back and accept that? _I'm_ supposed to be the number one female in your life!"

Alec made a face, suddenly snapping back into consciousness. "Hey now, Max is-"

"Your crutch, no offense Max (Max just narrowed her eyes, making a little 'hmm' noise in the back of her throat). You're going to want romance one day, Alec. Hiding behind a female best friend isn't going to work forever."

"I am not hiding," Alec replied, annoyed, actually sounding like he meant it, strangely enough.

"You are too!" Ooo, blondie was really starting to get irritated. Max glanced around at all the people carefully not looking at their table, wondering why _she_ wasn't more uncomfortable in the face of the lovers' break-up. Maybe because she'd known it wouldn't last from the beginning. As sad as it was, she was the only constant companion in Alec's life and she'd kinda gotten used to it being that way.

But Alec's eyes had fixated over Asha's shoulders, and he looked annoyed. "What's Logan doing here?"

Max's head whipped around, and it was indeed the cyber-journalist making his way down the stairs, coming in from the front entrance. Her eyes widened, and she briefly considered pulling an Alec and diving behind _her_ friend. Especially once Logan glanced their way, caught sight of them, and started making his way over. She was wondering if a quick sprint could get her to the back exit in time to avoid him when he was suddenly before them.

"Hey, Asha." Logan nodded at the blonde, then at them. "Guys."

"Logan," The transgenics nodded back, like twins.

Logan paused, just for a moment, his eyes on the dark-haired woman, shifting on her barstool. "How you been, Max?"

"Fine." She ground out, "You?"

"Pretty good," He nodded. "Keeping busy. Got this lead on the Meyer's case…" His voice trailed off when he caught Max's glance away and he sighed. "That you probably don't care about anyway."

This. This is the reason why she'd broken up with him in the first place. And eight months had done a lot to dull the pain, leaving only the last vestiges of anger and bitterness behind, so she wasn't about to pull any punches. "What? Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?"

"No, I was just saying-"

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't jump out of my seat in joy when you brought it up,"

"No one is asking you to-"

"I mean, not everyone can-"

"So, Logan," Alec's loud voice interrupted their typical and rapid descent into arguing. "Haven't seen you in a while. What brings you to Crash?"

The words died in the older man's mouth, and he glanced furtively at Asha. And Alec suddenly knew.

"Well, that was quick," He turned to snap at the blonde.

"Don't even start with me," Asha shook her head, walking off. Logan paused only slightly before nodding at them both and following the girl.

"Can you believe the nerve of them?" Alec turned to huff at his best friend. Max's eyes were following the two blondes as they made their way to a corner booth. "Max? Max, are you listening?"

"What?" Her head snapped back towards him, and she blinked, clearing the thoughts.

Alec pursed his lips, eyes narrowing. "You still have feelings for him, don't you?"

"What?! _NO_!" She made a grab at her beer, chugging almost half of it, like she was trying to drown out Alec's look of disbelief and the echo of her own voice, as petulant and sulky as a teenager's.

"Then why are you looking all angry and wounded?"

She slammed the glass back down, turning to glare at him for a long moment. Before she finally relaxed, sighing and shrugging. "I dunno, that whole year we were together, and Asha was just hanging out around the edges, waiting for it to be over… I guess I shoulda known they'd hook up eventually. I guess I can't really complain, I'm the one that broke up with him, right?"

"'Cuz of the virus," Alec pointed out.

"It was more than that," Max snapped for what she was sure was the one hundredth time.

"Jeez, sorry, okay?" Alec backed off, holding his hands up in surrender. "Anyway, I'm the one that should be annoyed. You and Logan haven't been together in almost nine months; you barely even mention him anymore. Asha broke up with me _yesterday_." And Alec descended into sulking, his eyes darting to the two people sitting in the corner booth, talking earnestly, probably about noble daring dos that would send their little blonde heads spinning off into euphoria at any moment.

And she hated to admit it, but Alec did have a little, tiny, teeny, point; he had more of a right to be jealous. There was some lingering possessiveness, because Asha had always been a threat, but hey, Max was human, couldn't help that. Really, though, to be completely honest, it wasn't all that raw. Her pretend relationship with Alec had lasted up till the flag (handholding) ceremony after the siege on Jam Pony, and that was well over a year ago. Then it was back to the Max and Logan happy hour of dysfunctional love and unending heartache. For six months, it had been all back and forth, close calls, and long nights of longing stares, before Max couldn't take it anymore. The night after they'd raided White's compound, knocking out over three quarters of the Familiars' leadership, sending the Cult back into hiding (for the time being), Max had made her decision. Logan had still been cruising on a cloud of accomplishment when Max had told him straight up that that just wasn't enough to keep a relationship going. She needed more than that. Her heart had been chewed out and stepped on and eaten away and she didn't think there was anything left; no amount of hot, euphoric feelings provided by a rush of adrenaline could make her ignore that. It'd descended into arguing after that, like it so often did when Logan didn't get his way, and Max had left Logan's place before she could be sucked back in to their sick little game. And she hadn't looked back.

She'd started dating almost immediately after breaking up with Logan, hoping that it would a.) get Logan off her back and, b.) clear the air, get her out of her own drawn-out moping, because really, she was doing the right thing, not just for him, but for her own shredded heart. Maybe Logan had been just as tired and burnt out as she was, because, while still borderline stalkerish, he hadn't tried quite as hard as he usually did. After a month or so, he'd stopped blowing up her pager. After three months, they could actually do Eyes Only stuff together, even if it did usually escalate into shouting. Personality conflicts was putting it mildly; they both liked to be in charge, they both liked things to be done their way, they were both stubborn as mules, Logan could still be kind of a jerk about the break up, and they were as different as night and day. It was a wonder they hadn't killed each other. Now, eight, almost nine, months later, and she was finally at a point that she could look at Logan without being angry enough to tear something to shreds.

_Emotionally unavailable, my ass_, she thought to herself. What did he expect when she was constantly worried that one accidental touch could kill him? That would probably even make a saint shut down, and Max was no saint. What did he know? He was just a big jerk, anyway.

"You still with me, Max?" Alec asked when she'd been distant too long.

"Where else would I be?" She shrugged, and he relaxed, still eyeing her a bit distrustfully. God, why did he think she was going to dissolve into tears just because she'd been around her ex for two whole minutes? Was it so unbelievable that she'd be capable of moving on on her own? She was only human (plus some extra bits) and even she had her limits.

"Maybe you n' me," Alec said, after a moment, eyeing her in an expression she wasn't quite sure of. "Maybe we're just not cut out to be in relationships, Max."

But Max, who had always had a bit of a romantic in her, shook her head. "I don't believe that. We just haven't found the right people yet."

"I guess," Alec sighed, sounding suddenly tired. Then he perked up, teasing. "Hey, wouldn't it be great if I could find someone like you? Only… you know… dating material?"

Max felt oddly insulted. "Gee, thanks, Alec."

"You know what I mean," He huffed in response.

Yeah, she kinda did. His girlfriends frequently complained that Alec was only ever really available to Max and she just rolled her eyes, because what did they expect when they were so fleeting and she was here to stay? And while her boyfriends never came out and said anything, they all treated Alec with a kind of macho, disgruntled wariness that Alec laughed at because they could never really understand, and if they ever really did try to start something, Max would have them kicked out so fast, they wouldn't know what had happened.

Alec was still perky, though, his eyes bright. "I got it! How about this?" Alec grinned, as if he was a genius. "Let's make a vow. If we make it to thirty, and we're both still single, and… you know… _alive… _we should get hitched."

Max snorted. "Very funny,"

"I'm serious," Alec protested, his eyes warm. "C'mon, Maxie, what do you say? You, me, a porch, and a couple of cats."

"Sounds romantic," Max rolled her eyes.

"If you're nice, I'll even throw in some sex once in a while." Alec replied blandly, not even dodging out of the way of her sudden swat across his bicep. He leaned in, his eyes narrowing, his smile turning crooked and wicked and so not good for her. "C'mon, Max, you gotta admit, the sex is always fantastic."

She controlled the shiver that trembled through her body. "Don't have to admit a thing."

But his eyes had locked on, and that narrow intensity was never a good thing. "You know, it suddenly occurs to me that we're both single again."

"Seriously, Alec, not sleeping with you."

His voice took on that rumbling quality that had killed her the last two times they'd both found themselves unattached and miserable and horny and together. "Why not?"

"I've got better stuff to do," She rolled her eyes. "Like look for a real relationship. I don't see how a distraction could help either of us at this point."

Alec sighed, backing out of his 'manly' display, or whatever, and started scanning the bar once again. "I guess." Sometimes Max didn't think she would ever really understand him. His eyes locked onto a redhead, leaning over by the pool tables, and his eyes narrowed in interest.

To save him some time, Max rolled her eyes. "Don't bother."

"What? Why not?" His eyes swept down the girl's generous curves.

"You've dated her before, genius."

"I have?" Alec blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah, for about a weekend, about two months ago."

Alec sighed, relaxing once more. "Good thing I have you around to keep me straight, Maxie." He glanced at her again, a small smile curling the edge of his lip.

"I said no, Alec."

"But I'm horny," He whined.

"Not my problem."

"It's okay," Alec replied, bland and amused. "I'll get you when you're thirty."

"Moron," Max muttered back, slouching back into the table once more. They descended back into relative silence, sipping at their beers, the two brunettes doing their best to ignore the two blondes talking on the other side of the room, ignoring them right back.

"What about her?" Alec suddenly perked up, eyeing a girl that had just walked in, looking around uncertainly. Probably looking for her friends, she didn't exactly look like a regular.

Max glanced over the designer heels, the pay-attention-to-me blouse, the blonde hair, streaked with purple. "Yeah, if you like the type."

Alec leaned back, pursing his lips. "What type is that?"

"C'mon, Alec, she's obviously slumming it."

"In that case," Alec grinned, "how can I resist?" He stood, hesitating for just a moment. "You… going to be okay by yourself?"

"Please," Max rolled her eyes. Alec only paused for a few more moments before he finally took off, after his next meaningless conquest. Max glanced over, watched Asha's eyes follow him across the bar, towards the girl who had no idea what she was in for. Asha looked down, looked away, as Alec leaned next to the girl, and Max shook her head. If Asha was hung up on him, she shoulda fought harder. If it had been Max that had been dating Alec, they'd never have broken up in the first place because there was no _way_ she'd let him get away with finding female companionship elsewhere, even if it was only for talking…

Her teeth clenched as Logan glanced up, caught her eyes, and his own blue gaze became soulful just for a moment. Her annoyance came rarin' back, and she wanted to shout over at him, "I wasn't lookin' at you, blondie!" but that was probably just some of the bitterness talkin'. God knows some words were said after they'd broken up. She looked away, finished her beer quickly, and stood up, grabbing for her jacket. A long bath and a good book seemed to be in order. Playing the dating game, even if that guy over there was eyeing her a bit closely and he was kinda cute… it just didn't hold much interest for her tonight.

She came to the door in her bathrobe, hair still wet, when Alec knocked close to midnight. He eyed her for just a moment, she considered not letting him in, but then he'd stepped in, his hands tangling in dark, curled hair as he devoured her mouth, and she was pulling him by his jacket, back into her apartment and he kicked the door closed behind him.

She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to look at her dining room table in the same way again.

Round two, and there was always a round two, was a little bit more orthodox, and afterwards, while she was laying on her stomach on the bed, head pillowed on her arms, smiling as contented as a cat, she'd wonder why Alec always got so touchy feely when it was over. Or… you know… not so much over as 'on break'. His hand swept up and down the length of her spine, and he would lean into her every so often to press an open mouthed kiss to her shoulder, or a quick nip to the back of her neck, before pulling back, resting on his side, head propped up by his forearm as he watched her with narrow, weighing eyes.

"What are you looking at?" She asked him, she always asked him.

And he always replied with simple candor, "You." And as tired and languid as Max always was, that always directly led into round three. The third round was always the slowest, lacking the frantic energy of the first and the competitive feel of the second. The third was just them, and it was always the hardest, because sometimes it felt too real. Alec's hands on her hips, guiding her gently, her mouth pressing against his, warm and replete. Sometimes it got to be too much and she'd slam him back against the headboard, or come down on him hard, and he'd snarl against her mouth as she laughed against his, but even with those sudden bursts of aggressive energy, it always came back down, slowed down, until she was shuddering around him, body slick with sweat, and his arms were wrapped around her, his eyes clenched as he arched into her, his face buried in her neck. It was in those moments that it was always the worst, because it was in those moments that she thought she might want to keep him; that she might want it all.

Tonight they would pretend. He'd stay over, and she would wrap around him and sleep, really sleep, for the first time in days, her arm across his chest, her face pressed against his shoulder. And in the morning, they might catch some breakfast, or head out to see a movie, and by the end of the day, it'd be back to normal and Max would vow, at least to herself, that it would never happen again.

Max woke up to sunlight glinting across her face, her arm outstretched across warm sheets, only recently abandoned, and the sound of Alec cursing in the kitchen. She sighed, blinking slowly, rolling to stare at the ceiling, just for a moment. She refused to think, though, refused to ponder or put any meaning into what they'd now done for a third time. Finally she forced languid limbs into movement, pushing herself out of bed before Alec could completely ruin breakfast. Her robe from the night before was still, undoubtedly, somewhere in the dining room, so she grabbed for his t-shirt and a pair of underwear, and padded out of the bedroom.

He was leaning over the stove, the toes of his bare feet curled, as if to protect him from the cool tile of the kitchen floor, his jeans draped loosely on his lean hips as he whistled tunelessly, seemingly unmindful of the fact that he couldn't cook pancakes worth a crap. She couldn't help the small smile.

Max bumped his hip with her own, gently pushing him out of the way, 'cuz it'd be better for their stomachs in the long run. She pulled the skillet from the burner, crossing the kitchen and scraping the burnt attempt at a Mickey Mouse shaped pancake into the garbage.

"I could've done it," Alec broke the silence, lifting himself to the counter top, bare arms, abs flexing, and he watched her closely, almost studying. Max just rolled her eyes.

"Do you want me to make 'em, or do you want to just go out and grab some breakfast?"

He frowned at her, and they both knew that if they left the apartment, it'd go back to the way it was, the way it was supposed to be. "You make 'em," He said, before she could dump the skillet into the sink. She hesitated for only a moment before crossing back to the stove, throwing the skillet back on the burner, and turning down the heat to a more reasonable setting. He slid off the countertop, watching as she poured more batter into the skillet, and he slid behind her when she picked up the spatula, brushing the hair from her neck and laying a warm kiss there where her shoulder and neck met. She pretended to ignore him as his fingers curled into her hips, and he pressed into her back, leaning over her shoulder to watch her _not_ burn their breakfast. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was morning, they were supposed to _de_tach. When his arms wrapped around her and he nuzzled at her ear, that's when it was finally too much.

"Please don't touch me," It came out rushed, as tight as her hand, clutching the spatula in a white-knuckled death grip.

"What?" He froze, and she could tell she'd sort of surprised him. "Why?"

Her eyes fell shut, her voice was pained. "I can't stand it."

"Max," He started, his arms tightening, and that just made it worse.

She turned suddenly and shoved at him, snarling, "I can't stand it!"

He released her immediately, stepping away, confused, and hurt, and rapidly getting angry. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded.

It was too real. It felt too real. They were just friends, it'd just been another night, another mistake, and tomorrow he'd go back to his normal ways, trolling for floozies, and she'd go back to searching, struggling to find a relationship with any sort of meaning, forced to compare her nights with the men that adored her to the nights with a man that did not. And he was her best friend; if they ever crossed that line, really crossed it... it could ruin _everything..._ Yet, part of her wanted to cross it anyway and that really scared her.

Scared her so much, she was all torn up into circular, confused knots. She was scared that it was just another night. Scared that it wasn't. Scared that it might not mean anything, and scared that it might mean everything. So soon after Logan, she… she wasn't ready for everything.

"Why did you come over last night? Was your little blonde not biting?" She demanded.

"What?" He made a face, backing into the opposite counter, obviously confused, obviously annoyed. "I had that girl eating out of my hand in five minutes. I could have had her in the fucking bathroom, if I'd wanted to." When her face just got more annoyed, like how was that supposed to help, he growled in exasperation, "But I didn't, Max. I didn't want her. I wanted _you_."

"And a week before that, you wanted Asha," She shot back. "So how is that supposed to mean anything?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded, again. "My night life has never bothered you before."

No, but it did today.

His eyes were still narrow as he straightened. "Is this about Logan?"

"What?! What's Logan got to do with anything?"

"Everything," Alec shot back, aggravated. "Seeing Logan last night, it's got you back into that, 'if it's not true love, it's not worth my time,' mindset."

"You're crazy," The smell of burnt pancake was acrid, and she pulled the pan from the stove, turning and sending it crashing into the sink. "I told you, I'm over Logan."

"Yeah, that's true, but you're not over that 'all or nothing' mentality." He argued, watching her with angry eyes as she turned off the stovetop, "That ridiculous fucking idea that if it's not perfect, it's not meant to be. Why do you think you keep ending up alone, Max? You're looking for something that doesn't exist!"

"Like I'm going to take relationship advice from a guy that can't keep a girlfriend for more than a week!" She blasted back, turning her back on him and stomping towards her bedroom. He started to follow her, but had to duck to avoid his own boot, flying over his head. He straightened in time to catch the other one, and a sock for good measure.

She was trembling, oh god, she would not cry, as she yanked his shirt from her body, tossing it out the bedroom door. Alec looked at it, discarded on the ground for a moment, before scowling.

"Keep it," He growled, knowing she could hear him. "Like I'd want something that smells like you, anyway." And he made a grab for his jacket, for his other boot, stomping out of her apartment before he'd even put on his shoes or realized he was still down one sock.

This is why she didn't like sleeping with him. It always felt too real, until reality set in, and reality was always so much worse.

It would be a week until she slid onto a stool next to him. "Hey," She said softly. He made a little 'hmm' noise, glancing at her out of the corner of hazel eyes. She tried again. "How you been?"

He leaned back, putting his glass down, and swiveled to face her. "What do you want, Max?"

What could she say? He was her best (guy) friend and she missed him? She sighed. "I thought a lot about what you said… and you're right." Alec just frowned at her, waiting for her to elaborate, and finally she sighed. "About looking too hard for that perfect thing. Really, I… I just shut people down before they get to close, before I can get hurt again."

"Tell me something I don't know." God, he wasn't going to make this easy for her, was he?

"I'm giving Rafer another shot," Max tried.

He barked out a laugh and turned back to the bar, grabbing for his glass. "Well, don't come crying to me when it ends badly."

"What?" She demanded, surprised. "You're the one that said I needed to try harder. And now you're saying it still won't work?!"

"Don't you get it, Max? I've played your little game, and I've kept my mouth shut. But you really wanna know why it never works? Because _you_," He pointed, hand still closed around his glass. "keep picking the wrong guy to begin with."

He shook his head, looking away, swirling his glass lazily, obviously not willing to play the joking, pretending game he had the previous week. "You need someone that'll put up with your shit. That can see through all your bitching and moaning and will call you out when you're stuck in the sorry-for-yourself rut. That can be there by your side when all the crap with the Familiars hits the fan again. You think any of those guys you keep picking will stick by you the way I do?" He took a long pull from his glass, face expressionless, eyes anything but, and she had to look away from him, so obviously drowning his darkness. The burn of the liquid tightened his features, just for a moment, before he focused on her once more. "That perfect, romantic Happily Ever After you're looking for? It doesn't exist, Max. You're fooling yourself, and the sooner you realize that, the happier we'll both be."

Max glanced back at him, impassive. Finally she rolled her eyes, standing and making to leave. "I don't know why I bother."

"Yep," He was still swirling that glass, driving her crazy. "Keep running away, Max. That's what you're good at."

"Excuse you?" She whirled on him.

He turned, placing his glass back down. "Don't you get it? One day after you break up with Logan, one year after you break up with Logan, it doesn't _matter_. In the end, I'm the one you're going to end up with." He stood, grabbing for his jacket.

"For someone that I haven't talked to in a week, you're awfully sure of yourself," She scowled up at him.

He shrugged on his jacket, shaking his head. "You keep running just as fast as you can, Max. You can sleep with half of Seattle if you want-"

"I think you've already got that covered," She scowled.

But he talked over her. "It still won't change the fact that I'm the one you're supposed to be with."

Maybe it was because he was so sure of himself. Maybe it was because she was just so mad. Whatever it was, she grabbed the last of his drink and tossed it in his face. The people around them were silent, openly staring now as he ran a hand down whiskey wet features. She felt a sudden thrill of fear as he opened his eyes, deep and dark in anger, and held her breath-

Releasing it in a sudden loud exhale of fury. "Put me down!" She pounded at his back, with almost all of Crash looking on.

"No," He swatted her ass for good measure. "You want to play this game? We'll play, but we're playing outside."

She struggled in her undignified position, over his shoulder, kicking as best she could, squirming for all she was worth.

"Max?"

Max's eyes, upside down and looking at Alec's leather clad back, went wide as she fell still. And even though she couldn't see the owner of the voice, standing before Alec, she knew-

"Rafer?"

"Put her down, man." Rafer's voice was slightly annoyed. Even though she couldn't see him, she imagined that his eyes were all squinty. She hated it when his eyes got squinty. Squinty eyes should be a deal-breaker.

"Back off," Alec shot back, refusing to back down.

"Aren't you going to call the cops?" A patron leaned across the bar, towards the bartender.

"You obviously don't know Alec and Max," He shook his head.

"Hey buddy, I'm not askin' you," Rafer frowned, and maybe that was his attempt at being manly, but Alec was immune.

"Well, in that case," Alec shrugged, pushing past him. Max's face was blazing, partly because she was hanging upside down, mostly because she'd never been so embarrassed in her entire life.

Rafer started to come after Alec, but ultimately, it was Max's annoyed voice that stopped him. "You really don't want to do that," Her voice, oddly enough, while muffled as it was still directed at Alec's back, was sounding irritated, but not necessarily all at Alec.

"What?" Rafer demanded as Alec paused.

"Look," God, was she really having this conversation while thrown over Alec's shoulder? "I appreciate the sentiment, but I can take care of _myself_." She punctuated it with an elbow to Alec's back. She didn't add that if Rafer really tried to force Alec into anything, the transgenic would and could wipe the floor with him, without even losing any breath. Mostly, though, it was that she could take care of herself, she didn't appreciate Rafer's attempt at manly heroics, and soon as they were out the back door, _she_ was wiping the floor with _him_.

Alec plunked her down in the middle of the back alley, and glared at her. "You might have just lost another boyfriend."

"Weren't you the one that said it wouldn't last, anyway?" She replied in boredom, feeling her body start to thrum, the adrenaline starting to pump, gearing her up for the fight. He was waiting for her to throw the punch, she could tell, but maybe she didn't feel like giving him the satisfaction.

So she wasn't expecting it when he whirled her around, pushing her a few steps back and into graffitied brick.

"I meant it, you know." His fingers glanced across a button, and it came free easily.

"Alec, not here." She was almost disgusted at herself, at how unconvincing and breathy that sounded, at how quickly her traitorous body switched sides.

A zipper was tugged down, revealing boring black that she hadn't thought anybody would be seeing. "Doesn't matter if it's today or six months or six years from now,"

"Alec, please." What was that whisper? Was that a stop? Was that a don't stop? She wasn't sure.

"It'll be me," His eyes flashed green, and it must have been a don't stop, because fingers were sliding down, glancing across her, and she gasped, arching into his hand. Could this really be her destiny? Fire and fighting and fucking until she was all used up and there was nothing left but ash?

But his hand gentled and he drew her leg up around him as he leaned into her. His mouth, pressing into her temple, was brutal and yet tender, and Max was reminded that there was always a round three, a time just for them and for something soft. At the end of the day, it was her that sabotaged everything, not him. It was him that was biding his time, keeping his relationships as short as possible, waiting on her. It was her that ran the other way every chance she got.

He drew away from her then, coming back to himself, and she was oddly disappointed. He left her there and she was vaguely annoyed. He went home and she let him because she wasn't ready. When it was time for him, it would be only him, forever and always, and she wasn't ready to handle that. Plus, friggin' destined or not, he could be such a pain in the ass.

So, here they were, back at Crash almost two months later, her moaning about her current boyfriend, a transgenic that didn't know the meaning of the words 'ladies first,' him smirking at everything that moved, and for now, they pretended. Pretended that they weren't just biding their time until she was ready. At least until it got to the end of the night, and he suddenly turned to her, after she went into a particularly long diatribe about the importance of cleaning up after oneself, and how unlikely it was that her current boyfriend would make it past the one month mark, and said,

"I was serious, you know."

She blinked. "What?"

"I meant it," He vowed. "When we're thirty, and we're both alone, I'm asking you, and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer."

She just blinked at him.

His smile widened. "Yep, it's just gonna be you, me, and some cats, Maxie."

"You're such an idiot," She muttered, hunkering back down into the table.

"Just don't come crying to me when you hit menopause about all the time you wasted," Alec shook his head sadly. "About all that time we could have been having lots of great sex."

"There isn't even a word big enough to describe your idiocy." Then she frowned. "Do transgenics even go into menopause?"

"Something involving fluctuating hormones and raging bitchiness? You'd be the first to make it happen, I'm sure. Or the very least, the first to use it as an excuse."

She just glared at him, and he took another sip of his beer, his eyes tracking a redhead sauntering her way across the bar.

She didn't know what made her say it, but all of the sudden it was out there. "Maybe we should say twenty-five." He turned to look at her and she looked away, shrugging. "Not like we're being serious, anyway."

His eyes, hard and warm, soft and fiery, bored into her as he nodded slowly. "Twenty-five it is then." And he smiled, slowly. "And you better believe I am serious, Max."

"What is that," She made a face. "A threat?"

"Nope," He shook his head. "Vow, promise, guarantee, take it however you want it... but it _will _be happening."

She blinked slowly at him. Then pretended to be angry, smacking him across the back of the shoulders… But… you know… Max had never really had anything to look forward to before. She hadn't been expecting the impatience... So it was kind of funny how when she turned twenty-three, she made him vow that he'd ask when she was twenty-four. But it didn't make anything other than perfect sense when she twenty-three and three months that she vowed forever and always and only him.


	15. WX

W was a prompt chosen by Nickeldime. X was written by request for we_are_parallel who wanted Christmas and gleeful Alec.

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_W is for Wall_

Rated K+

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Alec contained a heart of darkness with a ring of bright, protective coloring.

Max, on the other hand, had a bright, riotous mass of coloring in her center, boxed in by a thick, blackened wall, of which there was no penetrating.

In a way, they were complete opposites. In another way, they were exactly the same.

Max had been one of the very first people he'd painted in broad, impasto strokes. But he was nonplussed. The picture was finished, something inside told him that, but, in the same way, his painting seemed far from complete. Something cried out to be done, but he didn't know what, so he gifted Joshua #5, _Max_, upon Max as a present, and tried to ignore that soft something.

He asked her for it back a few weeks later, telling her that it wasn't done 'baking', ("Not ready," he'd said), whatever that means.

Alec was painted shortly after that during that whole Berrisford… thing. Joshua #23, _Alec_.

Joshua remembered explaining Alec to Max, his painting showing a thousand different insights, but he only managed to get a few, the most important ones, across in his steady, unsophisticated speech. Max went away and still he thought she didn't understand their medium sized friend, didn't understand that each stroke was a nuance, each color an emotion, just didn't see at all.

And still #5, _Max, _sat against the wall, finished but not, behind the rapidly growing stacks of completed canvas. And then Annie died, and Joshua just didn't care.

Weeks later, when the pain wasn't as raw, when they were all barricaded behind chainlink and armed patrols, that's when Joshua remembered how to paint, how to feel something that wasn't bitterness and pain. It was the flag that had done it, reopening some portal in his soul, some way to slowly step back into living. He painted the flag, but it wasn't enough, his heart cried out for more. But all of his supplies, all of his paints, all of his insights, he'd left them all at Sandeman's and Max wouldn't let anyone past the barricade unless it was a matter of life, death, or money. She felt bad, but she had to tell him no, he couldn't go get his things; it was just too _risky_. Alec surprised them all by talking one of his suppliers into driving over and picking up all of Josh's stuff when Logan wasn't home. Surprised them further by setting up a small studio on the east side of T.C. for their friend in a quiet brick building that didn't get much use.

Max chewed Alec a new one (sending one of his slimeball contacts over to Logan's house; how dare he!), but she almost felt bad about it when she saw how happy Josh was to have all of his projects, all of his paints, with him in a new home. Almost. No one could deny that Max was incredibly stubborn; hence the use of all that purple just inside the wall, just outside the riot of color.

It was when he was going through all his paintings, looking at each one with a fond kind of nostalgia, that he happened upon _Max_ again. But he still didn't have the answer. Maybe the problem wasn't him; maybe it was Max. Maybe she wasn't done growing yet, done baking, and until she did, her painting would remain unfinished.

While he waited for inspiration to hit him, or for Max to change (inspiration would probably hit before that happened), he worked on other projects. Mole was all shifting sands of yellow and thorny brambles of brown, with a hint of oasis in his center. Gem took after her namesake; faceted and lovely, reflecting all different shades of green. Eve he could not do, telling Gem that the infant was still too 'shiny' and new for him to paint. Ordinaries, Transgenics, no one was safe from his paintbrush.

Logan was the hardest; of all the people Joshua had painted, Logan was the most difficult to pin down. He was rich but poor as a pauper. He was incredibly selfless and horribly selfish. He was at times warm and kind and at others cold and cruel. Eventually, Joshua found inspiration and painted both halves on one canvas in a merged kind of symbiosis, one half a misty, icy pale blue, shot through with roiling creepers of gray, the other side a deep midnight, flecked with gold, and where they met in the middle, that mass of blue, some shade between ice and midnight, shot through with tendrils of gray and flecks of gold; that was Logan. He did not give the painting to the blonde man, thinking, while accurate, it might not be very nice. Max asked why, it was a pretty painting, but Josh refused to elaborate, and wondered why people couldn't see what he could see.

It was when Max came over to see Joshua #75, _Logan_, that he got the idea.

He'd only ever painted people alone. But humans are more than their personalities. They're also a web, a string of connections, a tapestry of relationships, splashes of color that change hue completely when mixed with another. For each relationship within a man or woman's life, a different dynamic, a change upon the person's most inner workings, a change in the colors of their soul. Joshua was fascinated by the idea. He couldn't wait to get started.

It took him a while, but he found the perfect starter set. As a trial run, Joshua #82 was a mixture of Gem and Mole. And it couldn't have turned out better… or more accurate, for that matter. Gem's facets focused upon the oasis in Mole's heart, enlarging it, and all her lovely shades of green turned Mole's Sahara into a desert after the rains; green and vibrant and full of life. And it finally made sense why dry, hard ass Mole and tough as diamonds, beautiful Gem were the best of friends. He called the painting _Desert Bloom _(a.k.a., the less lovely, _Gole_), hung it in his art studio, next to _Max Unfinished, _and declared it one of his masterpieces.

When Mole found out what it was a representation of, he demanded that the other transhuman take it down, because he had a reputation to maintain. Joshua did, but only because he gave it to the scaly lizard man. Joshua #82, the only Joshua that Mole owned (he'd refused his own self-portrait), was safely hidden (hung prominently) in Mole's apartment. It was probably the only thing in the world that the leader of the transhumans loved more than his shotgun (even though he'd never admit to it).

Basking in the success, Joshua did a string of other paintings, all illuminating relationships, and each of them possessing a breadth of insight that bordered on the omniscient. Alec would come sometimes, and just sit and watch Joshua unleash onto canvas. There was something cathartic about watchin' Joshua pour his heart out, pour other people's hearts out, in crimson and viridian. Max often stopped by too, to drop off paint supplies or to tell him how proud she was of him. Sometimes she hinted that she'd like a painting done of her and Logan.

Joshua #98, however, was an abysmal failure.

"Eh," Alec shrugged. "They all look the same to me. Whatever it is that wacky brain of yours it trying to say, you'll get it eventually."

"It looks kind of familiar," Max squinted, her head cocking to the side, her voice that customary sweet tone she always adopted around Josh. Alec's eyes sharpened as he looked it over, looking for the familiarity Max had mentioned and found it very quickly. He arched an eyebrow, glancing at the painting hanging on the wall, Joshua #5, and back at the artwork still on the easel.

"I think it's you, Max," He said. Max looked harder at the painting in surprise. "You and someone else."

"Is this another one of your relationship paintings?" Max asked, but Joshua stepped in front of her, blocking her view and removed the large canvas from the easel.

"No good," He said, and placed it, face first, against the wall.

"C'mon, Big Fella," Max said soothingly. "It's not bad at all. It's very… pretty."

"Pretty?" Alec snorted. "No offense, big guy, but it looks kind of… not good."

"Joshua knows." The taller man sighed in annoyance. "Logan ruined Max."

Max's eyes widened and Alec couldn't contain the surprised, disbelieving snort. "Let me see that again," Max demanded, sounding more like she did when she talked to Alec than to Josh.

Joshua hesitated before finally turning the painting around slowly, letting her look at it with a sharper eye. It _was_ a mixture of her and Logan, or at least of their paintings, now that she got a better look. But…

Logan's colors had overpowered Max's, and while there was a hint of the original vibrancy there, for the most part everything seemed washed out, gloomy even, and hard to distinguish. The edges, that had seemed dark before, when paired with Logan, had only gotten larger, more difficult to penetrate. And the whole thing was just as two-sided, light and dark, noble and selfish, as Logan's original painting. In the fifteen or so 'relationship' paintings Joshua had done, ranging from love to hate, friends to enemies, good to bad, Joshua had never come across two personalities that refused to work around each other, instead becoming two faded, unhappy pictures on one canvas with nowhere else to go.

"I like it," Max said stubbornly. "It's very…" She struggled for a word.

"Boring?" Alec supplied. "Bland?" After a moment, he added. "Bipolar?"

"Beautiful," Max insisted, her gaze narrow, her jaw firm.

That was another problem with Joshua #98. The brush had kept laying strokes, long after the beauty of the paint had faded.

"It doesn't work," Joshua frowned, and put the picture away so he wouldn't have to hear Alec making Max mad, or Max's stubborn refusal to see the truth.

Maybe it was because Max and Alec had come to see him, but Joshua #99 was finished soon after that. It was Max and Alec, and all it was, was darkness. All black and gunmetal gray with hints of red and purple, swirling and nebulous. Her impenetrable edges combined with his dark, confused center created a picture of blindness, of darkness, of hurting and never seeing, of searching and never finding.

"I like it," Alec said when he brought over some pizza for dinner. "It's kind of spooky. What's it called?"

"It's okay," Max made a face, when she dropped off some ham hocks for his breakfast. "Black's my favorite color. What's it called?"

"Joshua #99: _Max and Alec_," Joshua had supplied both times, watching as two faces had gone narrow, introspective, and dark.

"She's such a bitch," Alec had muttered to himself.

"He's so annoying," Max had glared at the dark canvas.

Alec had set down the pizza, still kind of spun, and turned. His eyes lit at the painting still drying on the easel. "Now this, this one I _really_ like."

Max had placed the shopping bag on Joshua's table and walked right up to it. Her finger traced the swirls of dry paint, riotous color, beautiful vibrancy. "This one is perfect."

"I want it." They'd said.

But Joshua #100 was also Max and Alec. All their beautiful colors, when put together, filled the canvas and made a complete picture; a whole. In all the paintings he'd done, he'd never seen a more perfect match. Not for the first time, the artist wondered about the possibility of soul mates.

"Joshua cannot give it to you." The large man had said, both times.

"Why not?" Had been the resounding answer.

"It belongs to Max," Joshua had shrugged, frowning unhappily, at Alec. Alec had looked again at the drying painting, discontent, almost antsy.

"It belongs to Alec," Joshua had apologized to Max, his eyes sorrowful. Max had shifted from one foot to another, the darkness descending upon her features once more. She'd pulled her hand away from the painting, almost reluctantly.

"Max wouldn't know what to do with it," Alec had argued.

"Alec would never appreciate it," Max had scowled.

Joshua had shrugged in apology. "Joshua cannot give away what does not belong to him."

Two people had left unhappy, convinced that they'd talk Joshua into giving them the painting another day.

But then, the ultimate of travesties. Torn, Joshua gifted the painting upon his friend, the newest director of the Seattle Museum of Modern Art. Honestly, he didn't know what else to do with it. He couldn't give the painting to one of his good friends Max or Alec knowing that, in reality, it should be shared ownership. And the art snob in him knew that you don't copy a work that original. But he couldn't keep it around, either. Just looking at it filled him with a hint of sadness, a melancholy at the unrealized potential… An Alec free of darkness. A Max free of walls. So he gave both it and Joshua #99 away, with the explicit instructions that they be hung together, because, really, they were one and the same.

"Max?"

"Alec?"

"What are you doing here?" They hissed in unison.

"Getting my painting," Alec frowned.

"Your painting?" Max scowled into the darkness. They turned in unison to look at the display. "I'm sorry, but you're not talking about _my_ painting are you?"

The safety of a gun clicked behind them. "Actually, I believe that's _my_ painting you're talking about."

They whirled as one, Alec's hands rising habitually into the air, Max's own forming fists at her side.

"Alec?" The museum director lowered her gun slowly. "What are you doing here?"

"Emily?" His hands lowered slowly.

"You know her?" Max asked out of the side of her mouth.

Alec sighed. "Kind of. I sort of used to be Joshua's agent."

"Remind me to kick your ass later."

"I won't."

"You're not…" The woman squinted, looking back and forth between the two, then smiled slowly as she lowered the gun. "You're not… Max… are you?"

"Who wants to know?" Max asked stubbornly, her arms folding across her chest.

"I had a feeling 'Max' was a woman," The director smiled warmly, tucking the pistol into the back waistband of her bilious pants. "I already knew Alec, and the painting has a definite tinge of the romantic to it."

The transgenics exchanged an awkward glance. What the hell was she babbling about?

"Your painting," The woman gestured. "Of the two of you."

They turned again, looking at the canvas of empty black and swirling gray and angry red and stubborn violet.

"Yeah." Alec said blandly. "Looks positively cozy."

"That one has a beauty to it too," The art director stepped behind them, smiling. "But when shown in conjunction with _Max and Alec #2_, well… it's beyond any meager praise I could bestow upon it."

"Max and Alec #2?" Max made a face.

"Joshua #100," Emily smiled in amusement, pointing at the picture of color and light and warmth. "The one, I take it, that you both broke in to steal from me?"

"That's us?" Max demanded. No way. It was too… not annoying.

Emily was in the zone, though, her keen art critic eyes picking between the two paintings quickly. "I can see why you wanted it so badly. The broad strokes, the feeling of wholeness, an aching duality to the first painting. Two different paths, walked simultaneously, showcasing all that untapped potential."

"What's she talking about?" Max glared at Alec.

"No idea. She gets like this, sometimes."

"Oh dear," The dark haired woman shook her head. "I see why Joshua had to paint you twice. The perfect ideal and the reality are quite far apart, aren't they?"

"Listen, lady, I just want my painting." Max frowned.

"Ditto," Alec chimed in.

"If it's your painting, why did Joshua give it to me?" Emily waved her hand dramatically, as if they were speaking nonsense, the bangles on her arm clinking together noisily. "Apparently it cannot belong to _one_ of you." She looked between the transgenics, her eyes narrowing, her hands steepling thoughtfully in front of her face.

"Really, it must belong to _both_ of you." She declared, waving her hand again. "So, until you can walk out of here and honestly say that you will share it, it's not leaving this museum."

"What a load of crap." Max scowled as she and Alec walked down the front steps of the glass bound building. "Who does she think she is?"

"The newest director of the Seattle Museum of Modern Art, for starters," Alec frowned distractedly, more unhappy than he was willing to share with her on the grounds that it might be incriminating. They stopped at the last step, turning to look at each other.

"I don't need it anyway," Max scowled. "Just a painting."

"Yeah," Alec rolled his eyes. "Of us, no less. Why would I want that?"

"Exactly." Max nodded.

They glanced once more at each other before abruptly splitting away, heading off in different directions.

Joshua woke up to find Max, sitting in darkness, her slim fingers touching the broad strokes of Joshua #98, _Max and Logan,_ trailing across the edges of black that seemed thick and impenetrable, so much thicker than what they'd been in Joshua #5.

"You've never known me without Logan," She mused, sensing him in the doorway.

Joshua frowned in confusion. "Joshua knows Max."

She looked over her shoulder, back at him, her hand resting on canvas, on darkness that clouded the edges as surely as fog. "This? This isn't just a problem with Logan. All my relationships…" She trailed off, looking back at the painting.

"Max doesn't know herself," Joshua said gently.

Max sighed, her hand falling away. "Why can't I see what you see, big guy?"

"Don't want to," Joshua answered honestly, and went back to bed. As confused as Max was, sometimes he had to let her figure things out on her own. He couldn't be the only one to chip away at the wall she'd built around herself.

Max was somber in Command the next morning, quiet. Joshua thought he caught snatches of an argument when he was walking by Max's office, and imagine his surprise when it was Logan that stormed out, and not Alec.

Joshua peeked his head in around noon. He was tentative, respectful. "Little Fella… okay?"

"Of course," she glanced up, and that was Alec lounging in the chair across from her, his feet kicked up on the desk. "Hey, Josh… while you're here… that two bedroom next to your studio? Nobody's claimed that yet, have they?

Joshua might be a verbal copy-cat, but he was far from stupid. His eyes glinted. "Why?"

Alec leaned further back in his chair, arching to look at Josh, almost upside down. "Maxie just can't resist me- Hey!" As she shoved his feet off the desk and the chair crashed backwards, to the floor. Grace of the cat saved him, and somehow Alec managed to roll over the back of the chair and land on his feet, looking up, almost predatory.

"Alec and I have decided to share an apartment," Max ignored his look. "I'm tired of catching naps in Command, I need a real place to stay... and Alec and I are almost always together anyway."

"Alec and Max?" Joshua asked in confusion. "Gettin-"

"Hey now!"

"Don't even go there!"

"We're just sharing an apartment, Joshua. As _friends_." Alec stressed.

Joshua blinked, and nodded slowly. "Joshua go get _Alec and Max_? For the apartment?"

"No!" They protested, and shared a glance.

"Maybe later," Max hedged.

"Just… not right now." Alec agreed.

Joshua went back to his studio and pulled Joshua #5 off the wall, staring at it for a long moment. He turned, found a tube of red paint that was fire and flowers and fighting and friendship and he painted out a small strip of Max's dark borders, from the inside. Like he said, sometimes it took some effort on Max's part to remove the walls around her. Later in the evening, he could hear some movement in the two bedroom apartment next door, followed by the sound of something dropping, then the sound of someone cursing, and Joshua searched his studio high and low for that tube of blue that was the exact shade of forgiveness. He smiled as he rubbed in the swath of sky, listening to their arguing through the thin walls, thinking it was a nice change from the usual quiet.

Maybe Max and Alec didn't need to own Joshua #100. Maybe it could stay in the museum. Maybe Alec would help Josh brush out all of Max's borders before they even realized they'd recreated that painting they'd wanted all on their own.

-

* * *

_X is for Xmas_

Rated K+

"X-mas" is not an X cop-out... It's... a play on letters...  


* * *

-

"OOOOOOOHHH Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree."

"I swear to God, Alec."

"Yoour branches green deeelight us."

"I will find Mole's shotgun right now-"

"Du grünst nicht nur zur Sommerzeit,"

"And I will… wait… wha-"

"Nein, auch im Winter, wenn es schneit!"

"Oh, at least pick a language and stick with it!"

Alec trailed off, turning, finally, to frown at Max. "You really are a killjoy, you know?"

She scowled back at him. "It's bad enough I let you talk me into a Christmas party, please don't _inflict_ me with your sad attempt at singing as well."

Asha breezed by. "Don't be such a party pooper, Max."

"No one asked you!" She turned back to look at Alec. "No one asked her."

He shrugged. Max barely noticed, caught up in her own scowl.

God, as if it wasn't bad enough that Alec had invited blondie in the first place, much less actually taken the time to sneak her in past the barricade... Max had tried to get mad about the whole thing earlier this morning, but Alec had sniffed and pointed out that she had done the exact same thing for the past six months with Logan. But that was totally different. Because… it just was. Max turned and opened her mouth to once again blast Alec with the frigid chill of her Asha annoyance…

But Alec had left her to her grumpy thoughts, and was quite busy ignoring her… and not only was he ignoring her, he was taking off in another direction entirely, caught up in another yuletide quest; it looked like he was heading straight towards where Dalton was putting some candy canes on a rather sad and spindly evergreen doing its best to stay upright in the center of command.

Oh Lord.

More sugar was the last thing Alec needed right now.

"Don't give him any of those!" Max took off after her erstwhile Second.

"Don't you just love Christmas?" Asha turned to smile at Logan. Logan made a little noise in the back of his throat, completely engrossed in the computer screen. "…Logan? Logan!"

"What?" Logan pulled away from the computer monitor long enough to give the woman a baffled look. Even his hair looked baffled; all crazy professor-ish. He and Max must be in an 'off' status again. It seemed like the attractiveness of Logan's hair was directly correlated to how well he and Max were getting on at the time.

"Did you even hear what I said?" Asha asked, arching one thin eyebrow.

"Of course!" Logan defended immediately, "You said…" Here he trailed off, realizing, in point of fact, he had no earthly idea what Asha had been saying and that this could end very badly for him… "You said… that you… love Christmas?"

"Nice save," Asha frowned prettily.

"Look, Asha-" Logan sighed, pushed away from the long countertop that housed T.C.'s brain, and swiveled to face her.

"Save it, Logan." Asha sighed, but there was no bite in her voice. "I've heard this song and dance before. Eyes Only, important things, yada, yada, yada." Her voice was gentle as she suggested, "It wouldn't hurt for you to loosen up, just for a little while. It's Christmas Eve."

"Thanks for the tip," He kept his voice controlled and Asha didn't miss the way his eyes darted to the side as he glanced at something past her. She turned, already having a pretty good idea of what she'd see.

"Give it to me!" Alec was putting up a pretty valiant effort in his fight to wrench the candy cane away from Max.

"I told you, no more candy!"

It was almost like watching a couple of little kids. Asha would have laughed if she hadn't known it would annoy Logan.

Max finally reigned supreme by adding a well placed elbow to the mix and with a huff, and a quick fix of her hair, she headed their ways, up the steel steps to the platform. Alec stared after her in annoyance for a moment. Just for a moment, because as soon as Max was a good distance away, he turned and simply took one of the display candy canes off their sad, little tree, unwrapped it, and stuck it in his mouth before sauntering off, hands dug deep in his blue jeans. Asha hid a smile behind her hand. Maybe he'd just wanted to fight with Max.

Maybe he'd just wanted her to notice him.

Probably not that, Asha shook her head.

Max dropped the candy cane on the desk by the computer Logan was using. "I swear he's like a little kid."

"You don't say," Logan's voice was so completely bland, there was no mistaking the humor in it. He turned back to the computer screen and gestured Max in closer. "See, this guy? He's the one I was telling you about." From the way Max leaned in, all stiff, guess the two really _were_ 'off' again. Wonder what excuse Max had given him this time. Wonder how long it'll be before he convinces her to get back not-together.

As Logan droned on and Max leaned in as carefully as possible, Asha did her best to become interested in their conversation. She wanted to be responsible and helpful and… it wasn't working. It was Christmas Eve; they weren't really going to run a mission tonight, were they? After tuning in just for a second, no, Asha realized, they weren't, Logan was merely going over the details for some future mission. Maybe he was just killing time responsibly before the party started. Killing something, anyway, as Asha stifled a yawn and slowly wandered away from them. She needed to get back to decorations anyway. Alec may be exuberant and whole-hearted in this little endeavor, but he didn't exactly know what he was doing. Hence, why she was here a few good hours before the party actually started.

Originally Alec had invited her because she was his friend and he could give a crap what Max thought, said, warned, and eventually elbowed for. That was before Asha had offered her help, realizing that Alec had no earthly idea what a Christmas celebration, traditionally speaking, actually entailed. Really he was just in it for the party. His original plan had been to set up quite a few kegs… but when Asha had made a face and mistakenly asked about a Christmas tree, his face had gone blank, solemn even, his eyes dark and confused.

Nothing quite sucks the joy out of the room like remembering that one of your closest friends grew up in hell. Apparently 'X-mas parties' and 'holiday festivities' never made it to Manticore's vocabulary list.

So, Asha had volunteered herself during the past week, helping Alec "acquire" the things he needed. He provided the money, she bought the decorations for him outside the fence, sometimes he snuck out late at night and they swung by a few liquor stores together… It was actually a pretty good week. Except for the fact that Max had been in a bad mood. Like, _really_ bad. Like, 'look, oh there's Max, I just remembered I had things to do in Fiji, quick run,' kind of bad. Maybe it was because she and Logan were off again. Alec had shrugged and said that Max didn't like fun, hated parties, and despised Christmas for the simple fact that it seemed to bring other people joy. Asha wondered if Max had just been annoyed that Alec had acted on his own, without her input, had snuck out of T.C., and, even worse, used Asha as back-up, both on his 'missions' and his party planning. It would sort of explain the death glares Asha had been getting today despite the fact that Asha had been doing a pretty good job of trying to keep the peace by avoiding Logan (easy to do when you couldn't pry Logan's cold, dead hands off of the computer keyboard).

Sometimes Asha wondered why Max felt so threatened by her. With her exotic features and sun-kissed skin, Max was gorgeous in a way that Asha would never be. Plus, she had all those awesome transgenic powers. _Besides_, Asha had given up on the idea of Logan _ages_ ago. Seriously, a girl could only be rebuffed so many times…

Except it seemed that Max was just as protective of Alec as she was of Logan and how fair was that, the two were like… brother n' sister, or something. Toddler brother n' sister, no less. Hair-pulling and elbows included. Asha picked up a sprig of white berries from a table, hardly seeing it at all, her mouth pursing in thought.

Max, watching the blonde from the corner of her eye, would have given anything to crawl into Asha's mind and find out what she was thinking. Max was well aware what mistletoe was for. Normal's annual Christmas party had clued her in real quick. The first time she'd encountered the parasitic little plant, she'd only just been hired, and Normal had almost fired her for breaking that guy's nose… Subsequent years and being friends with Sketchy had cured her of any desire to be remotely near that particular type of holiday tradition. But watching Asha eye it, her mouth twisted in thought, obviously giving the thing some serious consideration…

Was Asha going to make a move on… Max's eyes darted towards Alec, eyes narrowed in concentration, mouth closed around a candy cane (What, where did he get that?!), as he haphazardly stuck large red bows around the room with the unconventional use of a staple gun.

Whatever, Max so didn't care. See this? As Max focused back on the computer screen, a frown etched on her face. This is Max not caring what Asha does or does not do.

But her eyes immediately moved back to Asha just as the woman started out of thought, glanced again at the mistletoe in her hand, and went off in search of a good place to hang it. A good place near Alec, apparently. Max only kept an eye on her so she'd know where to avoid…

Alec pulled the candy cane from his mouth and he was eyeing Asha in interest as he asked, "Hey, is that the kissy stuff?" He pulled it from her hand, examined it, and with the guileless smile of an angel, hung it over his own head.

"Cute, Alec," Asha rolled her eyes and reached up on tiptoes to snatch it from his grasp.

"Eh, whatever, I'll get you later," He winked as they parted ways once more.

"Max, are you listening?"

Max snapped back around to Logan. "What?" Her face became closed off, her posture too tall and secure to be anything but defensive. "Of course I am."

"Really?" Logan asked blandly. "Because it looked like you were trying to burn a hole through Asha with your eyes."

Max scowled. Before saying, a little too loudly, "This whole party is stupid. Remind me why we're having it again?"

"Stress relief? Yuletide joy? The spirit of the holidays?" Logan shrugged, and then suggested helpfully, "You can't say no to Alec?"

"I hate him," Max grumped.

Alec, his attention having swung to them with Max's loud exclamation, sighed once more. He frequently did that when Max was involved. Some people were just anti-happy no matter what you do. Why was she fighting a little relaxation so hard? It's not like they were going to pull all the guards from the perimeter, so what was the deal? Alec was pretty sure that her insistence to clinging on to misery had to do with Logan. It was like she refused to be happy, to have any joy in her life, because somehow that would be a betrayal to their 'epic' love or whatever. Epic? Maybe at first. After a year and a half with the virus between them, Alec was wondering at what point he could start calling the whole thing disturbingly masochistic. Even if, judging by the state of Logan's hair, they were 'off' again. Alec rolled his eyes and turned to track down Asha once more, so he'd know where the mistletoe was, and, more importantly, the area to try to herd Max to. Nothing would piss her off more, distract her the most, than if he could maneuver her under it and lay one on her. Just thinking about it warmed the cockles of his gleefully villainous heart.

Max tramped off in annoyance, only pausing slightly to watch Alec watching Asha string up the mistletoe in a doorway that led off into some useless hallway. His smile was dark, narrow, calculating, as he watched the blonde hanging that stupid little sprig of berries. God, the party hadn't even started yet and Max already hated it. First chance she got, she was marching over there and ripping it down and putting an end to all of Asha and Alec's stupid little plans. They could make out on their own time. There was no way Max was going to sit through something that disturbing and barf-worthy.

Max got her chance almost a half hour later whilst Alec was gleefully and unabashedly spiking the punch with something that looked to be 100 proof. Max casually strolled around the Christmas tree, examining the shiny red balls, the gaudy gold ornaments, in pretend interest.

That's what first made Alec suspicious. There was a rule written somewhere that if Max looked interested, things were about to get annoying. He paused in his punch spiking to watch her with growing mistrust.

She looked at the crooked bows, peppered to the walls (really, who had let him get his hands on a staple gun, anyway?), before edging her way towards a little used doorway in the back. The door was nothin' special, just led past some abandoned rooms on its way to an alleyway. The doorway was almost as uninteresting as the rooms it led to; it was hardly adorned… well, except for a small bunch of green leaves clustered around a few white berries, adorned with a little bell for decoration; yes, the evil mistletoe. Her eyes narrowed, raptor-like, as she closed in on her quarry.

That's when Alec got interested. Alec slowly put down the vodka, his focus narrowing upon her. With seeming _dis_interest, the brunette started meandering his way away from the punch table. Dalton elbowed Gem as he passed, gesturing towards the older man when the redhead looked up. Her eyes darted from Alec to Max before gaining about three sizes.

The rest of Command slowly stopped what it was doing as everyone realized that Max and Alec were converging on the same spot and that things were about to get better than daytime TV.

Max crept up on the mistletoe, Alec crept up on Max, and everyone, sans Logan (who was busy typing up a storm), held their breath as the impromptu game of cat-and-mouse gained more intensity by the second. The room felt primed. If Alec actually _kissed_ Max, the whole place might explode in showers of glee.

Max finally reached the doorway and she did a quick check of the area before making her move. A lot of people seemed focused upon the ceiling for some reason, and Alec was busy bending down to pick up some stray tinsel from the ground. Good. She smiled, turning back to the doorway, stepping in, and reaching up, and-

The speed with which Alec spun her was not what made Max's mind go blank (although, later, it would make some people remark that Alec had seemed a little overeager to get up in Max's personal space, despite his claims to the contrary). Nor was it the strength of the hands that gripped her arms as he pulled her in in less than a second. It probably wasn't the heat of his body, shockingly intimate and pressed against hers. Mostly, it was that one moment, she was smiling in victory up at the mistletoe, and the next, she was facing an entirely different direction and there seemed to be a warm mouth pressed firmly against hers.

If this was some stupid story, this is the part where Max would immediately realize that Alec was kissing her, and she'd probably melt into him, and they'd probably have all sorts of lovely, raunchy thoughts about each other.

Max blinked stupidly in shock. Alec released her and broke away, grinning like an idiot.

Command seemed to fizzle and die in disappointment.

…At the very least, they'd been hoping for some tongue…

Max stared for another moment, before her face twisted in disgust. "What the hell, Alec! Did you just-"

He stepped in again, his hands curling into her hair as he held her face close to his and his lips covered hers once more.

In retrospect, Max would realize that she'd made a fatal mistake. More than one. She'd started to get bitchy. She'd started to annoy him. And she hadn't moved out from under the damn mistletoe.

Lips of Alec kept getting in the way of the thoughts though, and when he broke away, after a little bit longer, it took her a moment to clear the… shock, she was still calling it shock, and the annoyance immediately made a come back. And maybe he'd only kissed her that second time to cause her that very same annoyance… But this time, when he pulled his mouth from hers, he didn't let go of her, just watched her with eyes that had suddenly lost all mirth, his hands still buried in her hair.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Pretty-"

Later, someone would ask why she hadn't just punched him and gotten the hell out of dodge, and someone else would mention that she hadn't exactly shied away when Alec had pulled her in for the third time, and Max, overhearing them, would get righteously indignant and stomp off.

His fingers clenched in silken black hair as he angled her mouth towards him, and it was perfect the way she arched up to meet him, fitting right against his body, and it was strange how her seeming anger translated so well into the kiss that she was _not_ giving him back (or so she'd insist to herself, despite her hands, clutching at his back) and it was downright arousing the way her lips parted under his own, just allowing his tongue to glide against hers.

"I need a cold shower," Gem muttered, turning and walking off.

Dalton just watched, slack-jawed, until Gem thought better of it, came back, and pulled him away by his collar.

Alec was wondering how improper it would be to shove her against the doorframe and have his way with her in the middle of Command when a slight trembling in his arms reminded him that he'd been kissing her for a little longer than necessary, and yes, he _was _in the middle of Command, and by the way, this actually was _Max _he was holding on to, and-

The break off was mostly simultaneous. Max watched him with dark eyes, a mouth slightly open, and Alec had to glance away and clear his throat as he stepped back, hoping the distance might clear his suddenly fuzzy brain.

"I should go," He said thickly, so thickly, that for a moment, he was worried the words might slur together. He did his best to cover it. "You know, shower before the party and all."

Max watched as he all but ran from Command.

Coward.

He barely managed to dodge the mistletoe that she reached up, tore down, and hurled at him. The bell tinkled merrily as it bounced across the floor. Max was tempted to go over there and ground it into the cement with her boot.

A familiar voice at her side brought her back to reality. "You need something? Some water? A wet nap? Cold shower, maybe?"

"Shut up, Mole."

She refocused upon Command, and her eyes glanced across the room, at all the people who were very carefully _not_ looking at her, huge grins plastered on their faces. That's it… Everyone in this room; extra shifts for the next _month_, Max thought to herself vindictively.

Asha was the only one brave enough to look at her, and she did so with an unblinking stare that made Max a little uncomfortable. It was Max that turned away, booking it back to the computer monitors and Logan and everything safe.

So much for Asha's 'toddler' theory.

Ray, a tall, dark-headed transgenic that had been trying to catch her attention for the better part of the week, shook his head. "I don't know what you two see in him."

Asha turned and frowned. "Logan? I'm not-"

"Wasn't talking about Logan." Ray replied blandly, his eyes darting, just for a moment, to the door that Alec had escaped out of before he walked away.

Did Max really-

Could all of the fighting really be-

Months ago, when everyone had thought that Alec and Max were dating, Asha had told Logan that the whole 'relationship' thing was new to the both of them. Was it turning out to be truer than any of them had realized? Is that what they were doing, behaving like toddlers? Acting like little kids; flinging mud pies at each other across a fence, too immature and scared to actually cross into the yard of their crush? Were she, Logan, Max, and Alec the only people in all of T.C. that had been too dense to notice? Hair-pulling and elbows suddenly seemed to take on a whole new meaning after the witnessed 'mistletoe incident' (as it would come to be called in the following weeks) and Asha was left with a bemused expression on her face.

If Max ever made up her mind, there'd be no winning against her.

Rather than filling her with annoyance, it forced Asha to examine her feelings once more… and she was surprised to find that it didn't really bother her. That she really and truly did think of Alec as a friend, and if he and Max were to ever fess up to what Asha had just realized was staring them all in the face, she'd actually be happy for him.

Huh.

Go figure.

Asha turned, her eyes picking out Ray easily from across the room. He was crouched down, going through the Christmas CD's stacked haphazardly near the steps to the platform. It only took her a few moments to cross the distance, crouch down, and smile a little at him. "Need some help?"

He glanced up and smiled back, a quirked, half-smile, and Asha promptly forgot all about Max and Alec.

At least for a little while.

It was a few hours later, when the party was in full swing, that Asha noted, with a little bit of concern, that Alec still hadn't made a reappearance. She really hoped he wasn't spending Christmas Eve holed up in a bar somewhere, drowning out feelings he'd rather not deal with. So Asha tracked down Logan, hoping to find Max…

"Haven't seen her for a while," Logan frowned at her.

So, it was with a little bit of worry that Asha grabbed her jacket and pushed out of the front doors of Command… only to fall still, barely avoiding a collision with Max's backside.

She was in her leather jacket, her arms folded across her chest, and she was glaring balefully into the snow that was falling around her.

"Max?" Asha asked in confusion. It took her a moment to realize that Max was a little more pale than usual, the frigid air having had plenty of time to suck the warmth from her body. "How long have you been out here?"

Max's eyes flicked towards Asha, but she didn't say much. For the first moment. Then her lips twisted and she ignored the other woman's question, instead throwing out an annoyed, "Who doesn't show up for their own party?"

"What?" Asha asked in confusion, coming to stand next to the dark haired woman.

Max's glare tightened. "And who the hell is he to make everyone work so hard and then not even make an appearance?"

Asha's mind caught up quickly. Guess she wouldn't have to bring up Alec's disappearing act to Max after all. Apparently Max had been spending the better part of the night noticing it on her own.

"I'm sure he's fine," Asha sighed, finally admitting, "He's probably just a little strung out after this afternoon. He'll probably wander in later," after he's had a few rounds, Asha thought to herself.

Max ignored Asha once more and her scowl deepened, her hands burrowing even tighter into the crooks of her elbows. "This whole stupid party was his idea anyway."

Asha smiled humorlessly. "Hey, there's always next year. Maybe next time I'll get around to mentioning that the whole point of Christmas isn't in the parties or the presents…"

"It's in the giving, right?" Max sounded even more annoyed. So, not only was he copping out on the party, he was doing it on the holiday that was supposed to be about more than yourself. Oh, he was definitely getting an earful for this.

Asha frowned. "Actually, I was thinking I could actually try and bring religion into it next time; seems kind of empty without-"

"That's it," Max declared, not even hearing the blonde woman at her side. "I'm going to get him. This is ridiculous. I am not letting him hide on Christmas Eve just because he got a stupid idea into his small little mind that he needed to kiss me."

Asha really didn't _want_ to smile as Max stomped off into the snow. Part of her did wonder what had taken the woman so long to make a break for it, though. Apparently she'd been waiting for a push that Asha had never actually given her. Undoubtedly, sometime tomorrow, Max would convince herself that it had all been Asha's idea, despite the fact that the conversation they'd, quote-unqoute, "had", had been a little one-sided. Asha turned, and with one more quick glance at Max's dark figure, moving through the white snow, she made her way back into the warmth of the party.

The cold air was biting and crisp, and trudging through the wet snow drifts did little to improve Max's mood as she made the freezing walk from Command, down 7th, across Maple, and towards Alec's. But it was hard to notice the cold when memories of Alec's mouth kept heating her up. Even harder when the warmth kept getting replaced by a quick surge of annoyance and a boiling over of rage and the need to… to… _hurt_ him, or _throw_ something at him, or _something_.

The temperature difference between the outside and the inside of Alec's brick apartment building was minimal. She could still see her breath in the hallway, and, knowing that his actual apartment wouldn't be much better, she hoped he had his space heater on, because she had not come all this way just to freeze her ass off on Christmas Eve.

"Alec?" She reached for his door handle, ready to wrench it open… and paused to frown when it moved easily beneath her fingertips. She pushed the door open the rest of the way.

Guess it was too much to ask that he'd put his heater on after all. It sat neglected in the center of the room, every bit as frigid as the rest of the lonely, echoing apartment. She slammed the door behind her and didn't even pause to wonder if he was here, because-

"I can hear your obnoxiously loud nose-breathing, stupid." Max scowled, heading immediately for the bedroom. "So you might as well stop hiding-"

And she had to stop as she hit the doorway. It couldn't be more than thirty degrees in here… and Alec was sweating. Not just sweating, but _drenched_ in sweat, his head thrown back into his pillows, face twisted in a grimace, as he forced pained intakes of breath in and out of his nose.

"Alec?"

Eidetic memory; the fine tremors in his arms as he'd pulled away, the disorientation on his face, just for a moment, the words that had almost slurred together…

"Oh god, Alec."

One moment she was still in the doorway, the next she was sitting next to him, chewing her lip in worry.

He pushed weakly at her, but she wouldn't budge. Was it that she was too strong or that he was too weak? Probably both. "S'not over yet," He managed, before his eyes closed once more and his face twisted.

"Do you have any milk?" Max asked, her own face twisting, but in a different kind of grimace.

He opened one eye, briefly, and there was a glimmer of dark amusement behind all the agony. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. Hundreds of transgenics in T.C., and milk was a precious commodity in the Ordinary world to begin with, so, obviously, somewhere, someone was lacking. And the someone, this week, maybe the last couple weeks, had apparently been Alec.

"What about tryptophan?"

"Ran… out…"

Probably last week, maybe even earlier if he was this bad off.

"Why didn't you say something?" She asked, her voice far softer than usual, her eyes almost liquid in concern.

"I was busy," He sighed in that tired, shaking voice. Busy with the party. Running around. Acting like the celebratory child after Halloween, hopped up on 10 pounds of sugar, too excited to know he was making himself sick, caught up in every new discovery he made about holiday jubilations. If that wasn't the stupidest reason Max had ever heard to not take care of yourself, her face twisted, she didn't know what was. She'd hurt him, but, well…

"I'll be fine," He murmured. "Just… go back to the party." It came out all garbled and slurred together, a mess of unhappiness, and pain, and Max caught a hint of something else as well.

"What," She made a face. "Big, bad Alec scared that Maxie is going to see him all weak?"

His eyes opened in surprise. Before he smiled slightly. "Maxie… already seen me…" But he didn't finish, because his teeth grit together, his body arched away from the mattress, and Max got off the bed as he was wracked by another episode.

Max hadn't seen someone else seize since she was a child. She could handle memories of her own seizures; she'd always known she'd be fine as soon as she got her hands on some tryptophan, and her mental strength protected her from fear when her own body was shaking... But her memory of watching someone _else _seize told her it was something frightening beyond compare, that the feeling of powerlessness was an ache that ate everything away and left you cold and empty. Reliving those horrible feelings, this time with Alec; yes, it was one of the most frightening things she ever witnessed. Never before had she felt so… helpless… so terrified and unable to act. Not at first, anyway. Then, while the life was being forcibly shaken from his body, she tore apart his room in search of his cell phone, her body numb, but not from cold, her breaths quick, but not from exertion, her hands shaking, and all from fear.

"Who?" Mole stuffed a finger in his other ear, trying to drown out the music pumping from the computer system. "Max? What do _you_ want?"

He listened in silence for a moment, before slapping the cell phone shut and turning and clasping Gem's elbow, interrupting her conversation with Dalton, pulling her towards the door.

"Wha-"

His grim face would brook no argument as he continued his tug. "We need to go, _now_."

"What? Where?"

"Your place," He didn't even stop to grab his jacket.

She ripped her arm from him, eying him suspiciously. "_How_ much have you had to drink?"

"Alec's seizing," He frowned as he pushed open the door, oblivious to the way that Asha, Joshua, and Logan, all talking nearby, fell silent, their heads snapping around to follow the conversation. "We need to grab some of your pills."

Gem's face was hard, the face of a soldier, as she nodded. "Lead the way."

Across town, Max was sitting on the bed once more, hovering anxiously over Alec, her face hesitant and unsure. "Is there… anything I can do?" It was a stupid question. She already knew the answer well enough from her own shakes. Best you could do is get out of the way; maybe help shove some pills down a throat when you got your hands on 'em… Other than that…

He shook his head, tired, but a corner of full lips lifted, just for a moment, and maybe she couldn't do much, and maybe asking had been pointless… but maybe it was the thought that counted. His hand, cold as ice, brushed across the back of hers, just for a moment, startling her, before falling back onto the simple blue of his comforter.

For a moment, Max was tempted to grab hold of his fingers, to squeeze, let him know that she was here, that he wasn't alone. She swallowed hard.

"I'll just… go grab the heater from the other room." She booked it. Didn't even have time to see Alec's weak nod. He didn't open his eyes. Light, even if it was the only dim, pale light of an overtaxed streetlamp, struggling to shine through flurries of snow and a window caked in grime, would be too much to bear. It would be almost as bad as having to look at her looking at him when he was weak like this… Closed eyes, trembling, freezing, burning, and shaking not withstanding, it didn't escape his notice that she'd all but run from the room… and he didn't want to have to see that expression on her face, that 'oh, I have to take care of Alec _again_' face.

Part of him wished he was still all alone. Part of him wished that he wasn't and that somebody cared.

Max paused outside his door and took a calming, steadying breath. Calm down. He was shaking and unsteady and pained, but he was fine, and Mole would be here soon, and getting yourself worked up over the idea of a little handholding seems a little ridiculous, all things considered. Her chin firmed and she grabbed for the space heater, turning and stomping back into the room, lookin' like for all the world like she was marching into battle. Alec's lips quirked a bit at the sound of her heavy-footfalls and she figured, just for the moment, it'd be safe to sit next to him once she'd plugged in the heater.

Touch was such an awkward thing for her. Touch was as natural as breathing to him. Maybe they were both surprised when his hand rested against her knee and she didn't move away from him, but rather, just for a tiny, harmless second, let her fingertips glance across his cool forehead, brushing aside hair that immediately sprang back into position anyway. Her fingertips glanced across his temple, circled the side of his face, and light be damned, that's when Alec had to open his eyes, when he started to question how alone he truly was.

"Max-"

"Medium fella!" The door, that Max had so exuberantly slammed shut earlier, sprang open with the same amount of force as Joshua all but bolted into the apartment, hair flying.

Max snatched her hand away from Alec, turning quickly to look into the living room as Alec pulled his own hand away from her and struggled to sit up... but had to collapse back down in pain.

"Joshua?" Max made a face, confused.

Asha and Logan followed after, a little more circumspect, as well as a tall dark-haired X-5 that Max didn't recognize. She stood, walking into the living room, exchanging places with Josh, whose tall frame crowded worriedly into the bedroom.

"Where's Mole?" She asked quietly.

"On his way," Logan supplied in return.

As if on cue, Mole appeared, apparently having run all the way to Gem's and over here in the same amount of time it'd taken Logan and Asha to trot behind Joshua's fast walk. The scaly transhuman paused in the doorway, his face twisting at the unexpected amount of people standing in the room.

"What? When did we move the party here?"

Max snatched the bottle of pills from his grasp, making a break for the bedroom.

It would be at least a half hour before Alec had the strength to sit up all the way, to quietly answer Josh's wide-eyed, concerned questions of 'are you okay?' (Fine,) and 'Joshua get you something?' (I'm fine,) and 'Medium fella do that again, Joshua bounce him on his thick head,' (I… wait, what?). It would be a half hour after that until Alec was finally able to stand on his own and make it into the living room where everyone else (plus Gem, who had wandered in with Eve and Dalton while Max was helping Alec choke down the tryptophan) was congregating, talking in hushed voices.

"Well, welcome back to the land of the living, princess." Mole snarked at him.

"Who invited you?" Alec managed back with a tired frown.

"The queen B, herself." Mole made a nod at Max, still hovering a bit behind Alec and Joshua, like she expected Alec might fall over at any moment; like she was the only one she trusted to take care of him.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Shoulda known she'd find a way to ruin my night."

"Hey!" Her face twisted in affront. "I'll have you know I practically saved your life, you-"

"It's called a joke, Max."

"Good to know they're both fine," Gem murmured to herself as she rocked Eve gently.

Asha was forced to agree. And more then that...

This, she thought to herself, looking around the room at the close-knit group of friends, talking quietly amongst themselves, this is what it's really all about. Not the bows, and not the punch, not the music, or even the mistletoe, just this; friends, and thanksgiving, and gratefulness, and warmth. Just this.

And maybe this; later on, as Asha made a break for the kitchen, to see what was taking Max so long with the eggnog, only to back out and away; away from Max, leaning back against the white refrigerator, her hand held lightly against his side, away from Alec, leaning in to Max, his fingers wrapped gently in her hair as his lips grazed against her own.

So, maybe it was a little bit about the mistletoe.


	16. Y

_A/N: Yes, yes, I am alive. My career doesn't leave me much time for writing these days, but here's another chapter (that's been floating on my LiveJournal for about a month). Actually get a short break next week, so hopin' to churn out Z here in the next week or so. And then the 2nd Alphabet game is all done; which means I can go back to WotC and Castaway. Finally. _

_Y was written by request for an anonymous visitor to my LiveJournal that wanted a Ben vs. Alec fic._

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Y is for Yet

Rated M... seriously... but not necessarily for what you think.

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"Max, is that you?"

Guess he'd heard her after all. Max came around the corner of red painted wood and Plexiglas, smiling slightly. "Hey, sorry I'm late." She lifted the wine bottle slightly, that slight smile turning warm and entreating. "I was hoping that maybe this would make up for it?"

Logan took the bottle from her hands, his eyes flicking over the label. It was no age ripened extravaganza from the turn of the century. It was something cheap, affordable, and well within her means. Something she'd picked up a few nights ago at a liquor store on a corner street in an area that Logan would be unlikely to frequent. He pursed his lips, but if he was a wine snob, he attempted to control it for her.

"Well… it is a red, so…"

Maybe some of that wine snob had leaked through because she made a face, reaching for the bottle in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. "If you don't want it-"

"No, no," he waved her hand away, too polite to do anything else. "It'll be fine."

Max breathed a sigh of relief, shooting him a quick smile.

"So, haven't seen you around the last couple of days." Logan turned, making his way back to the kitchen. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know, this and that." She meandered her way after him. Dinner was almost done; she could smell the pesto sauce, the vegetables still on the stovetop. "Normal's been raggin' on us pretty hard lately." She crossed the space of the kitchen quickly, lifted a lid and peered into a pot, making a face at all the greenery. Gross. Maybe it was the cat in her, but she'd always preferred meat to veg.

"Keepin' you busy, huh?" Logan laughed at her disgusted face before turning away. Max moved back to the kitchen island to watch him rummage around in a counter drawer. He finally found what he was looking for and pulled it from the drawer's contents. The stainless steel of the corkscrew matched his appliances perfectly.

Everything in Logan's life was so orderly, so structured, so different from her own. For a moment, Max almost… envied him. She shook it away and rolled her eyes, focusing on the conversation once more, easy to do when she got caught up in the exasperation she felt about one Reagan Ronald.

"You have no idea. It's like nothing I do is good enough for that man. I swear I've already gotten fired twice this week."

Logan laughed; a small thing, full of irony. "You know, if you're ever strapped for cash-"

He was brave to bring it up, because that was sort of a sore point between them. "Logan, I already told you. Doesn't matter how desperate I get, I'm not taking money from you." She would go back to cat burglary before she did that. Not that she was particularly hurting for cash... now or ever. Logan… just didn't need to know that... also now or ever.

His smile quirked. "Really, I'm just trying to save you from a life of crime. I'd hate for any other poor loft owning individuals to come up missing a few priceless artifacts."

Her grin was wicked in response. "I'm sure it won't be anything they can't afford to miss."

He shook his head, a small smile still ghosting around the edges, before he set about popping the cork. Max didn't even hesitate in reaching for the glass he poured for her. She didn't take off her black driving gloves, but that was nothing new. He took a small sip from his glass, and if the ruby red wine was bitter, too young for his expensive palate, he was polite and controlled the wince, trying to cover it by making for a barstool and sitting down. Max hardly even noticed the bite, used as she was to it.

The timer on the kitchen showed they still had a good ten minutes until the chicken was done. Now, all they were really doing was playing a waiting game. A silent waiting game. Max settled onto the stool near Logan, but not too near, and watched the timer tick away. A silent, _awkward_ waiting game. She glanced at him just as he was glancing at her and they both looked away quickly, draining their glasses almost simultaneously. He refilled for them both.

It was funny how they had to fill the silence with alcohol. Seemed like if they didn't have work to talk about, they didn't have anything to talk about. Max felt the stirrings of something that felt like guilt and brutally shoved it under with another gulp of wine. Logan took a measured sip of his own before setting the glass down carefully, watching her with a studied intensity that almost made her uncomfortable.

Something firmed in Logan's eyes; like he'd come to some sort of decision. Something flagged within Max as Logan stood and faced her fully.

"Max, there's something I've been wanting to say to you for a while now."

Max had to look away. Oh Lord. Not tonight. Why tonight of all nights? The guilt was an unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth, almost as bitter as the dime store cabernet. Before she could draw away, or try to stall what would undoubtedly be an unpleasant conversation, he reached for her hand, flexing nervously on the kitchen island. His fingertips brushed against skin, that small area below the buckle of a black glove, and Max froze, her eyes swinging up to meet Logan's. He must not have noticed the contact, but he did notice the way Max wrenched her hand away in horror.

He frowned. "I just wanted to tell you…" He paused, a slight sweat breaking out across his forehead. "To tell you…" He took a deep breath, sitting back down on his stool abruptly. "…To tell you… I don't feel so good."

Of course he didn't feel good. "Logan-" Her face was concerned. He tried to shake it off, tried to stand, but stumbled instead, his hands grasping at her arms, clutching tightly. Everything was going in slow motion, a strange gray haze suffusing his mind. He was falling to the floor, so slowly, he heard the sound of boots on expensive tile, so distant, watched as Max's head moved slowly, so mincing, towards the kitchen entrance, her eyes widening in surprise.

She didn't even get a chance to open her mouth, cry out, no, _stop_, before the gun lifted, the man in the doorway squeezed the trigger, and a bullet slammed through Logan Cale's head.

Max could only watch in horror as Logan's hands slid bonelessly from her arms, as he toppled to the floor, dead well before he hit the ground. She whirled, eyes flaring in rage, her gaze locking with narrowed hazel eyes, staring at her with a calmness that was almost chilling.

"What the fuck, Ben?!"

Ben was sullen. "I don't like when he touches you."

"Well he's touching me right now, genius! I think there's a piece of him on my boot, for chrissakes."

Footsteps where heard, Alec having apparently heard the silencer go off. She heard his clip clicking into place as he trotted quickly through the apartment, through the den, filled with all of Logan's state of the art computers and random video equipment. He reached the kitchen and fell completely still, looking in surprise at the man dead on the floor.

He blinked once, twice. But no, Logan Cale was still unmoving upon the ground, and his head was leaking all over the place. Probably had something to do with that nice shiny bullet hole that was in no way part of the plan. He gaped for only a moment more. "What the hell happened?" He finally demanded.

Ben was still sullen, sulky. "He was touching her."

Alec wasn't playing. "Well, whoopdi_fucking_doo, genius. That was kind of the whole point of the seduction angle. I meant, why is he _dead_?"

"What do you mean, why is he dead?" Ben scowled in response. "Tonight was the night."

"I mean why the hell is his brain on Max's boot?!" Oh gross, guess that really was a bit of Cale after all. Max made a face and attempted to shake it off as Alec continued. "What happened to the plan? The poison in the wine? The whole point was to make it look like _natural_ causes!"

"It was taking too long." Ben replied in boredom. Alec made little astonished, frustrated noises in the back of his throat, his jaw working soundlessly, before he finally whirled to Max, his eyes narrowing in barely controlled rage.

"Will you please talk to him while I try and fix this?"

Alec stalked off, pulling his phone from his pocket and punching in numbers quickly. Max heard him speaking in clipped tones shortly thereafter, but she paid little attention to his words; undoubtedly he was trying to salvage the contract that had called for a _quiet_ death.

"Dead is dead," Ben said sulkily, like he was trying to convince her. Max just glared at him until he turned away, unable to bear her annoyance.

She waited until he was a good distance away. And then Max crouched next to the blonde man's still body as Ben moved around the room, erasing all traces of her visit, all hints that the former heir of Cale Enterprises had been entertaining a guest. As she looked at the cooling corpse, she felt… something… just for a moment. She sighed, and her voice was almost gentle. "I'm sorry. You were a good man, and you… you deserved better than this."

Ben had stopped what he was doing and watched, his eyes burning and narrowed, and Alec, watching from the doorway suddenly thought he could sense a reason for Ben's trigger happy zealousness.

Alec frowned, interrupting the disturbing picture. "Max, given the mess Ben has just created, the buyer refuses to carry through on the paycheck. I don't doubt that he's calling the police as we speak, spinning up some half-cocked story about a desperate phone call." And then, when neither she nor Ben started moving with the speed he desired, he added harshly, still annoyed, "We need to go. Now."

Her eyes took in Logan Cale's unmoving form for just another moment before she stood quickly.

"What about clean-up?" Ben asked. His eyes darted towards Cale's body. His hand twitched.

"Clean up?" Alec barked in laughter. His eyes flicked distastefully on blood that had sprayed across the island counter. A red rivulet slid from a wine glass's rim and mixed with the dark liquid already within. Undoubtedly the police would be pulling a metal slug from the back of Cale's destroyed microwave in a few short hours. Something on the stovetop was beginning to smoke. If a fire started, it'd be just that much more work for the cops. Fuck it.

"Grab the wine and let's go." And, a testament to his annoyance, Alec turned and stalked out, offering them no more direction. Usually he was sort of a control freak, so guess he was serious about the buyer reneging. Max grabbed the wine, the two glasses, dumping the liquid quickly in the sink, and thanked god that Alec and Ben had to come through a skylight while she was distracting Cale, that the penthouse apartment had a private elevator and no nosey neighbors.

The kitchen timer went off just as they were leaving; the chicken, Logan's last meal, was done.

"What do you think he did? Who did he piss off?" Max asked as she was changing out of her clothes later that night. Ben was lounging on the bed, little more than an old mattress thrown upon the floor, and he was watching her lazily.

"Who, Cale? Who knows." He shrugged. "That's Alec's department." Then his mouth quirked. "All that video equipment he had lying around? Maybe he had some blackmail on somebody." He slumped back into the pillow, his foot moving in time with some melody that only he could hear. The conversation had been dismissed; Ben simply had no interest in _reasons_. Ben just did the job.

Sometimes Max wondered how he could be so blasé about the profession that they'd fallen into. Maybe because it suited their skill set so well, their training, their cultured, literally, births. Maybe he thought he was born to do this, so saw little need to question. Maybe he thought his Lady had guided him to it. Max was not so sure. Just knew that money talks and life is what it is… Even if it was starting to get old… even if she didn't know if her head was in it anymore.

Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she and Ben hadn't headed off together, that snowy night in 2009. She wondered what path her life would have taken if, when her Unit had split off in every which direction, she'd partnered her run with Zack or Tinga or Jondy, instead.

What the hell was she thinking? She shook her head. She was still out of it, moody, and almost melancholy. Guess she was just all jacked because she'd actually gotten to know the mark before they'd terminated. That was never a good idea, but this time had called for it.

But still, how had a good man like Cale ended up on somebody's shit list? She'd have asked Alec, but he wasn't talking to either Ben _or _her. He was mad at Ben, hence, he was mad at her by default, since she was always so hell-bent on sticking up for her 'brother.' Alec hadn't even given her a chance to prove that she hadn't been planning on defending Ben this time, because as soon as they'd made it back to their small, temporary apartment, he'd changed, grabbed his leather jacket and his keys, and stalked out. Max had not doubt that she'd be subjected to the harsh cries of some undeserving female in a few short hours as a sick form of punishment.

"You're not mad at me, are you Maxie?"

Max pulled herself out of her churning thoughts, glancing at her brother, who was staring mournfully at her tight face once more. She offered him a strained smile before pulling an oversized sweatshirt over her thin frame, stepped quickly into grey shorts. She didn't say anything, but she did lie down next to him, and that would have to be enough.

The light clicked off and Ben's hand found her in the darkness, drawing her back into him. At first she stiffened, but then relaxed. But when he tucked her hair behind her hair and his lips glanced lightly against her throat, so lightly it could have been mistaken for a breath, Max ripped away.

"I'll sleep in Alec's room tonight," Max muttered, and pretended she couldn't see through the darkness, couldn't see the hot flash of jealousy burn through her brother's eyes.

"What did I do wrong?" Ben asked, practically demanded. "I didn't mean anything by it, Maxie. You know I love you."

Max stared at him in distrust for a moment. "Of course," she muttered after a moment, forcing herself back down to the bed, telling herself that Ben could never think of her that way, all the while secretly vowing that they were never crashing in a two bedroom apartment again. From here on out, three beds, and that was final. She couldn't wait to get back to Italy, to her own bedroom, her own private living space. He drew her back, but he kept his lips to himself, for which she was thankful.

But his words in the darkness made her frown.

"You like me best, right Maxie?"

She didn't even have to ask what the hell he was talking about; she already knew.

Ben's always been wary of Alec. Doesn't matter that they're clones and, _theoretically_, should be the same person. Doesn't matter that the three of them have been together for almost two years now. Since she'd stumbled across 494 in that seedy bar in Kezmekistan, he'd followed her into the alleyway, and she'd knocked him out before he could call for back-up.

"Of course," She says to the wall, her eyes unblinking.

Ben relaxed behind her and she felt rather than saw his eyes shut as he tried to relax, going to his High Place in thought if not in reality. Max was left with thoughts of a more base nature. Even though her mind rejects him, his body is beautiful and his lips across her throat brought a memory unbidden.

The remembrance of it; she wishes someone would take it away. But, oh God, _his_ hands on her body, his breath on her skin, his taste in her mouth…

Heat is a horrible, unfair thing. If it was going to happen to her, if the cat was going to control her mind, why couldn't she at least be blessed with a clean memory, a blank slate, a blackness during the loss of human consciousness, a void where memory should be when it was all over with. Maybe if she couldn't remember the Heat, she wouldn't still want him, crave him. Max had once prided herself on taste. But God knows the cat was not as discriminating as she was back then and no longer is, not now that she's had him. And now, that one time mistake, it has progressed to more than once, though his twin does not know it and would never know it if she had things her way.

Her eyes closed as the memory assaulted her. The way he'd looked when he'd walked in the door. How his lips had parted and he'd stared at her like she was be all and end all of the universe. How his look had thrilled her. How he'd walked to her, slowly, giving her plenty of time to run. How she'd stood, quivering, in the center of that small, crumbling motel room, waiting for him, needing him. How he'd reached for her and breathed her in, and she'd gone sway-kneed to the floor and Alec had followed her down.

As pleasant as it may be, as hot it can heat her body, it is not thoughts she wants to be thinking while sharing a bed out of necessity with her brother; a brother that shares Alec's face, Alec's lips, Alec's body, but not his mind.

Ben has gone completely still behind her.

Max pulled away. "Going to go get some water," she muttered. If he knew the truth, he kept it to himself and rolled away from her.

It's not as if she even needs sleep. Neither does Ben, but sometimes he likes to pretend. She can't, not tonight, not when surprised blue eyes are still burning in her mind, not when Alec's harsh look of anger as he'd stalked out the door was still sticking with her.

She downed the glass of water and then another and told herself she wasn't waiting up for _him_. If she was waiting, which she _wasn't_, she didn't have long to do so. It was just creeping up on one in the morning when Alec rolled in, laughing quietly at the giggling girl tucked under his arm.

He paused in the doorway as he caught her eyes, burning with perfect blandness from the one chair that graced their living room; an old leather contraption that had reached its prime so long ago, not even the ghost of quality was left. His arm retracted slowly from the girl's shoulders and he stared at Max for a long moment before his hand dug into his pocket in a movement that was deceptively lazy. He pulled out a fifty dollar bill scissored between two fingers, and held it beneath the blonde girl's upturned nose, all without ever looking away from _her_. "Go home," he said simply. The girl started to protest, but Alec was already walking away from her. Let her draw her own conclusions about the dark girl, waiting on the one chair. In the end, money won out and the woman escaped and all that was left was them.

He sank to his knees before her, before that old chair, before the only altar he had ever brought himself to worship at. "Were you waiting on somebody?" His voice isn't the voice of the supplicant, but of the god. It's smooth and rich and it makes everything deep within her tighten.

"Ben's sleeping." She says simply, but his hearing is as good as hers and the rhythmic breathing in the other room, soft though it is, seems loud for just a moment as transgenic senses rush to confirm it.

It's an exhale of breath that she can almost feel, even through her heavy sweatshirt. "Ahh." His hands connected with her knees, slid up the smooth skin of her thighs. His eyes flashed golden in moonlight. "Were you waiting on me, then?" She bit her lip, but his hands went no further than her thighs, and his head bowed before her. Her hands slid through his hair as she slid her body forward on that ghost of a chair.

For a moment, they're both brought back to that night, that old motel room, her harsh cries and his ragged breaths.

They stayed like that for only a moment before Alec hardened his thoughts to the future and to the past and only focused on the now. His arms wrapped around her, tightened, and he stood and _lifted_, and her legs wrapped easily around his waist. He made his way through the darkness, and her head dropped into the curve of his shoulder. He wasn't paying complete attention and this new place remained a little unfamiliar and his elbow grazed the kitchen bar as he passed. He let out a soft curse and she controlled the low laugh. He'd pay her back for the throaty laugh later, like he always does, but only when she wouldn't be expecting it.

Not on the bed, never on the bed. Transgenic noses are sensitive and one small room will cling to the scent of sex long after you'd wished for its dispersal. Ben doesn't need to know, so apart from that one time, that first time, (first couple of times, actually, because no one said Heat dissipated after the first orgasm) they usually find their way to the bathroom. Usually it's the shower wall that braces her back against his perfect thrusts. Sometimes, though, if the tub is large enough, the water heater strong enough, if there's very little rust in the drain, Alec will place her on the bathroom counter and turn to fill the tub with water. And she'll sit and watch with darkening eyes, her feet kicking slowly. It's not a girlish gesture; it's more predatory than anything else. He'll turn and sit on the tub's edge, watching her as the tub fills, as steam starts to rise behind his back. And she'll slide from the countertop, her toes connecting hesitantly with cold tile, before she'll force her feet flat and lift the sweatshirt from her body. His eyes will darken immediately, they always do, and she'll bite her lip in desire as he'll stand slowly, as he'll shrug out of his jacket and pull his own shirt from his body. A little game. Tit for tat. Her hands slide behind her back, undo the clasp of the bra easily. Having no counterpart, he'll just continue to watch her, waiting. Her thumbs hook in the material of simple sleep shorts, and satin underneath, as she starts to push them down, baring everything to his gaze.

At this point, his impatience always starts stirring the air, which really only makes it more delicious to prolong it. He'll fairly jerk his belt free, and sometimes, like tonight, it will be Max that caves, Max that crosses the distance and lets her knuckles rim against the soft skin over his hard abdomen. Who will pull a button free, lower a zipper, and let her fingers catch in denim and cotton, and push his pants down. Still slowly, 'cuz she hasn't caved so much that she's not above a little teasing.

Her teasing always amuses him, though, and his mouth will quirk with that perfect little smile that makes her forget it's only supposed to be about sex. And like that, that predatory spell is gone, and they're just human, and they're just together. Don't get her wrong, Max loved some hard shower-wall sex just as much as the next girl… but nights like these… they were always the best, somehow.

Alec sank into the hot water with a hiss, and drew her in after him. She landed in his lap and water sloshed over the edge of the crowded bathtub, but she hardly noticed as his lap was such a nice place to be. His teeth grazed slightly at the column of her throat, and the sound that rumbled in the back of her throat was lazy, and warm, and content.

"Did you really think I'd let you get away with bringing a girl home tonight?" Max asked, her head arching backwards, against his shoulder, baring her throat to him. Tonight of all nights when they were both so shaken by the day's events?

He nips and she shivers.

"Haven't touched me in over a month," His voice was a deep bass in response. "Maybe I thought you were tired of me."

"This apartment is so small, and Ben never leaves." Max scowled. In truth the only reason she'd even caved tonight was because she didn't think she could handle listening to another night of some other woman receiving treatment that she was beginning to think should belong exclusively to her.

"I don't want to talk about him," Alec's voice is annoyed, just for a moment, and they both step away from the subject. Of a brother that she refused to be honest with, much to his frustration, and a rather unstable man that Alec did not like, much to her annoyance.

His hand slides under water, across the naked curve of her hip. And then, despite his insistence to avoid the subject, he goes right back to it. "He's getting worse, Max."

Max stiffened. He can feel muscles tense under his hand and it stills at her waist, waiting. Waiting to see if she'll fight back or if she'll run. She doesn't do either, and he is unprepared for it.

"He's my brother." And that's all she'll say. What does he want her to say? What could she possibly do about Ben's worsening mental state? It's not like she could kill him. Nor could she abandon him.

He costs him something to say it, but he says it anyway. "I worry about you."

Something in her stilled for a long moment, but she shoved the reaction down. She turned her face to him instead, fixing him with a slight, twisted smile. "Ben won't hurt me."

"Not yet," He replied solemnly and it mad a slight tremble trip down her spine, like a premonition of things to come. He noticed, but he's smart enough, he wants her enough, that he's not willing to say anything out loud and end the evening's activities prematurely with a fight.

His hands find the soap, find her breasts, and just for a little while, they pretend that he doesn't have a twin sleeping just a few rooms away. And if it was wrong to arch back into him, to let his hands find her hips and guide her gently… wrong to gasp when he finally, _finally_ slid into her (god, like she even laughed that much about his stupid elbow blunder. Alec was a mean, dirty old tease), to bite back the moan when he started moving within her, well, who would ever know? If they did anything wrong, the proof of it went swirling down the drain with the rest of the water, where it could do no harm.

Her damp hair curled wetly at the shoulders of her sweatshirt and she really did try to sneak away, out of the dark bedroom, but Alec caught her hand and pulled her back into the room, into his naked chest.

"Stay with me." His hand slid down the side of her face, his eyes found hers.

"I _can't_."

Sometimes a statement like that would piss him off, make him blow up, but tonight he remained soft, his gaze remained gentle. "Can't, or won't?"

She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. "It's just one night, Max. It won't hurt anything."

She shifted from one foot to the other, knowing she should go, desperately wanting to stay. Maybe it was because she hadn't had him for a month prior; maybe she'd missed the feel of his skin under her fingertips. Maybe she was pissed at Ben. Whatever it was, finally, she compromised with herself. "Just for a few hours…" She gave him a warning look to back it up. "But you have to promise, no funny business."

He crossed his heart with one fingertip. "I promise. Cross my heart and hope to-"

He didn't finish the sentence, because one slim finger had pressed to his lips, hushing him. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that."

He rolled his eyes, pushing her hand away. "It's just a saying, Max. Stop freaking out." He turned from her, walking away, all but falling into bed. She hovered in the doorway just for a moment, knowing she should leave, before following him and letting herself sink into bed next to him. He didn't reach for her, so it was with a huff that _she_ wrapped around _him_. She pretended she couldn't feel his slight smirk in the dark room.

Morning always comes too soon.

Her eyes opened slowly. Early summer sunshine was glancing across her face, warming her skin. She'd stayed too long, like she always did. Ben hadn't wised up yet, though, so surely her brother's feelings would be spared another day. Sometimes she was sure that Ben would be able to guess... that he would see something in the way she looked at Alec... especially mornings like this, when her gaze couldn't be anything but soft. She glanced across Alec's sleeping features. They'd twisted in the night and his arm was across her torso, his face relaxed, and the small smile quirking her traitorous lips couldn't be helped. Until she glanced up and her body went cold, her blood freezing in her veins, as her brown eyes connected with sharp hazel.

"_Ben_."

Ben's face in the doorway was made of steel. "I missed you last night."

Max started to scramble from the bed, but an arm, as steely as Ben's face, tightened around her. Alec spoke into his pillow. "She was with me." His voice was muffled and sleepy, but the hint of amusement was hard to miss. "Don't worry brother Ben, I didn't ravage your sister."

Much.

Max was mortified. Ben scowled, but finally he looked down and away, muttering, "I don't like when he touches you." Max froze all over again. Alec, very calmly, without opening his eyes or even looking up, finally released Max, but only so he could lift his arm and flip off his clone.

Ben turned white, then red, then white again, and finally just spun on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Max swatted Alec across the shoulder and scrambled from the bed. Alec didn't follow, because fighting with Max took too much effort, and it was too early in the morning to start pretending that he didn't want her next to him _every_ morning.

When he did finally get out of bed, he was cheerful enough… until Max's dark mood started to eat at him. Was she so embarrassed that brother Ben had caught them sleeping in the same bed? No, she was embarrased that brother Ben had caught them in the same bed with all of her unwanted feelings naked on her face... but he didn't know that. Just knew that she was being a grade A, prime beef, bitch. His cheerful demeanor turned into something moody and caged, and when she snapped at him, again, he snarled back, before finally grabbing for his jacket and stomping out.

Alec's not back that night, and Max didn't worry about it, because they all have bad days. They all escape from time to time, but they always make their way back to each other. Or, more accurately, Ben and Alec come back to Max, and Max… well, there was a point in which she only came back for Ben. Now… Now… who's to say what she wants.

Alec was not back the night after that, either, and Max started to get worried. Ben said nothing, just watched her with burning eyes. She was afraid that he'd open his mouth and ask if they could leave Alec behind. She was worried that he'd ask that damn question again, that same fucking question that he always asked. That question that makes a liar out of her again and again. She was afraid that he'd make her choose. Max didn't know if she was ready yet to shatter all of Ben's beliefs.

It was Ben that was out the third night; the night that Alec came back in with the fires of hell swirling in his eyes.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Max demanded.

Alec shoved past her, making his way through the barren apartment to his silent room. It's raining outside, and he was dripping wet, leaking all over the floor that hadn't seen a real carpet in ages. Was he really stupid enough to actually walk home in the misery of the hard summer storm?

"Alec, where have you-" She stormed angrily after him, into the bedroom, but fell still, silent, as she watched him stuffing his few meager possessions into a standard army issue duffel bag. "Alec?"

"I got picked up by the police." He snarled. He paused, one wet fist clenching in a soft t-shirt. His head turned, and he glared at her over his shoulder with dark eyes, full of wrath. "For murder."

Max staggered backwards, leaning into the doorway. "Cale," She breathed.

"Not for Cale," Alec turned back to the duffel and stuffed the shirt in. She thought he was going to leave it at that, leave it at a mystery, but he fell still and stared hard at the bed. "I need to know about your childhood, Max."

"What?" He'd never asked before, why would he-

He turned to look at her with deep, dark eyes that already knew too much. How did he know so much? Water ran in rivulets down a somber face. "I need to know what really happened in the woods the day that Lydecker sent you after that convict."

Max froze.

How did he know about that? She had never told _anybody_. How could he know? Her fingers tightened on the doorframe, her voice was strangled. "We stopped him from getting to the fence," and that's all she would say, tense and unhappy, her heart slowing in her chest.

"Really?" Alec demanded, his duffel abandoned, his shoulders squared beneath his clinging blue t-shirt. "Because that's not what the rumors were. The rumors back at good old Manticore was that it was much, much more than that."

Her face twisted, her anger started to build, shame started crawling into her hands. Memories. Flashes of white. Trees. Running. Blood, everywhere. On her face. Her stomach churned and she was forced to turn away. "I don't know what you're -"

His simple statement cut off her breath, her denial. "I was picked up for the murder of a Catholic priest."

She was like a statue of ice, frozen in time, muscles locked in disbelief and fear and _knowing_. Alec was watching her, his face grim. His tone was almost conversational. "The poor bastard had had his teeth ripped out of his head."

There was the denial. The slight shaking of the head. Maybe it was more than denial. Maybe it was memory.

He took a small step forward, and she hunched into herself, unable to move away but still protecting herself from the awful truth as best she could. Alec sighed. And then, as if he could make her _see_-

"I was positively i.d.'ed, Max."

That's what finally broke her silence. "No," She whispered.

Alec wouldn't put up with it. "He killed a man, Max!" And, even worse- "And he was fucking seen!"

She shook her head, tried to shake away the truth. "We kill men all the time." She said, and Christ, even her voice was shaking.

"Not like this we don't." He replied grimly. "I saw the pictures. They were only too happy to parade them out in front of me when they were trying to get me to confess." Alec shook his head, and though he was supposedly making his fortune on death, even he couldn't control the disgust. "This wasn't business, Max, this was _sport_."

His hands curled around her shoulders and he whipped her around. Forced her to face him. "I told you._ I told you_, Max, the minute it crossed that line, the minute it went too far, that I was out."

"No one ever asked you to follow us out of Kezmekistan," She snapped back, shaking free of his tight grasp, her mind unable to register anything other than the fact that it seemed like she was under attack. "Or to even start working with us."

"Well, what else was I supposed to do?" He demanded. "You think you found _me _in that shithole bar? I hunted _you _down. You two were amateurs, you barely pulled off that Bolkovich job, and you might as well have put a sign out; 'Follow me home'." She didn't know what made her angrier; his annoyance or his condescending tone. "Somebody had to step in and lead."

"And it was you!" Her finger dug into his chest. She took a step forward, he refused to budge, and her finger dug hard into his chest once more. "Who is it that finds the targets? Who is is that inks the contracts? _You_! So stop acting like you're so faultless. It's not like you're some goddamn saint!"

Alec stared hard at her for a long moment. She resisted the urge to squirm under his harsh stare. He finally spoke, and his voice filled the room, filled her ears, felt like it was echoing all around her. "What he's doing crosses a level of sick and wrong we can't even comprehend, and you know it."

Maybe she wilted... maybe just a little.

"Maybe it wasn't him," She whispered, looked away.

Alec made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. He turned from her, went back to his duffel, and stuffed the last of his clothes in.

"We can't stay here. His fucking blood games will lead the police right to our doorstep, and then it's _goodbye_ freedom. And that's only assuming he won't turn on us."

"He wouldn't do that-" She started to argue.

"Open your goddamn eyes," Alec roared, turning on her once more, his patience fraying momentarily. "He's flipped. He's not your brother, he's a psychopath!"

He was both, and had been so since they'd been children. "I can't leave him." She whispered, stricken. "I have to take care of him."

Alec took a calming breath, running a mostly dry palm down a damp face, before focusing on her once more. "Ben is broken, Max. He's so goddamn broken, I don't think even you can fix him. And one thing's for sure," He finished with a voice of steel. "I won't leave you with him."

"Then don't leave," She snapped back, not really knowing what else to say.

It was only with great effort that Alec remained calm, and he continued, as if he were talking to a child. "_We can't stay._ The man is a ticking time bomb, and I don't want to be around when he finally explodes."

"He hasn't hurt us yet," She argued in a last ditch effort.

She thought he'd mastered his anger, but apparently he'd only been controlling it, and only barely, because it came bursting back out. "Yet? _Yet_?! It's always fucking '_yet'_ with you, Max! What are you waiting for, the day he shows up with pliers in hand and a bag with our names on it?"

Her hand caught him across the cheek, and she didn't feel bad, because he was a bastard and he deserved it.

Alec laughed, slightly, face turned away, red in the shape of a handprint blooming across his cheek. "That's always the answer for you, isn't it? Beat it to a bloody pulp, ignore it, and hope it never comes back to bite you in the ass." Her hand raised again, arced towards his face, but he caught her wrist easily, squeezed, painfully, and he stared hard at her.

"We've known each other for two years, Max. And we've been playing this you-and-me, back-and-forth game for over a year. And we never talked about it, never questioned what we were doing, not once. I think it's time we started, and you get the first question." Alec's eyes were still turbulent, still angry, but suddenly there was something soft behind them. "Ask me why I'm here, Max."

She doesn't have to ask. She already knows, or at least she thinks she does, even if she wishes she didn't.

"How the hell should I know?" She ripped her arm away and turned from him, moving through the apartment quickly, trying to escape him. She didn't get far before his hands connected with her shoulders and he stopped her gently, spoke softly to the back of her head.

"I think part of you does."

Her eyes close slowly. He's here for her. He's always been here for her. She's the only reason he's stayed, the only reason he's never left. As much as he hates Ben, whatever it is he feels for _her_, it is something greater, something that keeps him tied to the life that he's not sure he wants anymore. A life that she's not sure she wants anymore. She longs for Italy. For the beach and the bar and the yellow house by the sea; Alec lounging in a white open collared shirt, and smiles that aren't strained, eyes that aren't checking around the corner for a brother that is always watching, always waiting. His voice pulled her from the dream.

"I can't play this game with you forever, Max." He spun her easily, staring solemnly into wide, brown eyes. "One day I'll get tired of waiting."

Her mouth worked soundlessly. A part of her knew that she should kick him out now, say goodbye and good riddance and it'd just be her and Ben, and maybe that's all Ben needed to be normal again, the absence of Alec…

But that soft stillness within her... the gentle mornings, and the warm smiles. She… she couldn't… No. She _wouldn't_, and wasn't capable of, giving up Alec. Not even for her deteriorating brother.

Her mouth was dry, and it took every ounce of strength in her body to force the words out of an unwilling throat. "What do you propose we do?"

He swallowed, and for a moment, there was a blind panic in his eyes. Like he knew what he was about to say could cost him everything. It confused Max. He'd sort of admitted how he felt about her, what else could he possibly have left to fear?

Whatever that something was that frightened him, honesty suddenly seemed more important, and he said it anyway. Took the gamble that could cost him everything. "…I know a guy... He could take care of it for us."

And what the hell was that supposed to mean?

"What?!" Max demanded. "What do you mean by that? I am _not_ letting some stranger kill my brother, Alec-"

"What, would you rather do it yourself?" Alec interrupted, shaking his head. "Besides, that's not what I'm saying." So what was he saying? He seemed to be having a hard time spitting it out. Finally, he took the plunge. "Lydecker could take care of it."

Max's brain shut down for a good long moment. "_Lydecker_?" She asked in numb disbelief. Her face twisted in horror. "You mean Colonel, fucking _Manticore,_ Lydecker?!"

Alec pretended he couldn't see her rising horror, her growing anger. "If anyone can fix Ben, Max, it's Manticore." And if anyone could put Ben down, it would be them as well.

There were so many things she could say. So many arguments she could make. The cold, numb feeling was suffusing her mind, though, and everything seemed so surreal. Is this how Cale had felt, when his world was ending? She heard her voice as if it came from someone, somewhere, else. It was just as cold, numb, empty, as she felt. "And how would you know how to contact Colonel Lydecker?"

Did he really need to answer? His silence was enough.

Her hand gripped weakly at her stomach. Oh God, she felt sick. Like she might vomit. Like she'd found a viper in her den, and it'd been in her bed all along. It was suddenly all so clear... All this time…

She'd been such an idiot to trust him! Ben had been right all those years ago. 494 had switched sides too quickly. How could she have bought his bullshit line about wanting his own life; wanting out of Manticore's tight grip. His face, the face of her brother, it had made her trust him too easily after he'd woken up from unconsciousness and found her again in Kezmekistan. His smile, a smile only his, a smile that had always gone straight to her toes- How could she have trusted him? She glanced up at him, eyes widening. Oh God, how many lies had he fed her? How many targets had he found for them? How many of those targets had been fed to him through the Manticore pipeline? Christ. Two years; she'd been doing Manticore's dirty work for two years and she'd never even known it. She'd been living off their money, everything she had was theirs; the clothes, the cars, this shithole apartment... even her beautiful yellow house by the sea… She felt like she wanted to cry. The disjointed, turbulent thoughts all rolled together, and through it all only one thing rang perfectly clear...

She'd been the perfect fucking operative; the kind that didn't even know she existed. Her fingers gripped convulsively over her abdomen; maybe she really was going to be sick. She had to look away from Alec.

But Alec's soft voice shocked her from her thoughts and the roiling nausea. "I'm sick of it, Max. I can't take it anymore. I'm sick of the killing, sick of being Manticore's puppet. Cale was the last straw. With Ben gone-"

Her hand dropped away from her stomach as she found a reserve of strength. "With Ben gone, the only one left for you to hand over to Manticore would be me." Her eyes swung up to him. "And that's what they want, isn't it?"

"What?" He seemed surprised. "No! If they wanted us back, we wouldn't have much say in the matter."

"You mean _you_ wouldn't." She replied sourly.

Alec frowned in response. "Do you get how much bigger than us they are? You think I want to play trained dog? I told you, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of it and I'm _done_, Max."

Her voice was cold. "And when have I heard that before?" Alec started, maybe in guilt. Max continued, her voice flat, almost dead. "Ben was right. I should have killed you in that damn alleyway in Kezmekistan. I never should have trusted you."

Alec could have wilted in shame. But there was an inner strength to him, a core of steel, that she had forgotten about. His gaze firmed. "Yeah, we can play this bullshit 'what if' game all night. I'll even let you cry pretty little tears of remorse if you want and pretend like I feel ashamed about every time I fucked you white-eyed on Manticore's dime." Max gaped in disbelief. Alec continued, his eyes hard. "But that doesn't change the way things are _now_. We killed a good man this week, Max, on Manticore's say so. And Ben killed another one just for fun. I really am through, and with or without you, I'm leaving, and I'm running as far from Seattle, from Manticore, as I can get."

She could hurt him. Make him pay for his lies. But really, she didn't have that kind of strength. Damn it, why couldn't feelings just disappear. Her face was hard as she turned from him. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out." Never as strong as she wished she could be, she had to reach out and steady herself on the bar. There was a long pause before she finally heard him turn, slowly, start walking towards the door. Another pause. Please don't say anything, she begged him silently, her eyes shutting. Just let me learn to hate you.

His voice wasn't angry anymore. It was soft, like he knew it was asking too much to expect her forgiveness. "Just…" He sighed, a heaving thing. "Just, be careful, Max." She heard the wry, pained smile in his voice as he undoubtedly looked away. "You know I worry about you."

And then he was gone, the door shutting gently behind him and she was free to sink to the floor, clutch at the edge of the bar, and stare blankly at nothing, willing herself not to cry, never to cry. A hysterical thought burbled through the nothingness of her numbness; he'd left his duffel in the bedroom.

Stupid. So fucking stupid. Had it only been a few minutes ago that she'd told herself that Alec was the one thing, the only thing, that she would never give up for Ben? But who was Alec? A persona created by Manticore, one that she'd given a name? Alec was a lie, an agent put into her life by her enemies. Alec didn't exist, and it was foolish to mourn him.

The first tear fell, and then the next, and even squeezing her eyes shut wouldn't stop the relentless, rolling pain from spilling out of her.

But the door slammed back open, and Max almost jumped in surprise, turning watery brown eyes to the entrance. Alec was angry, his hazel eyes raw and sparking with fire and emotion and so many things she couldn't put name to. He couldn't have gotten farther than the rickety old stairwell before he'd turned around. She opened her mouth. He beat her to it.

"If you think I'm leaving you alone with him, you're just as crazy as he is!" He scowled. "I love you, you crazy bitch, and I'm not leaving this goddamn apartment without you."

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to yell. She wanted to punch him in the face. She couldn't do anything, because he'd stalked across the floor, dropped to a crouch, captured her face with his hands, and he was kissing her like he meant it, all of it, the crazy L word the most.

"What the hell are you doing?" The voice was harsh, but it did not come from Max, busy as she was desperately returning Alec's ravaging kiss. It was Ben in the doorway, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

Alec had never been, and never would be, cowed by Ben. He released Max slowly, stared searchingly into her eyes, just for a moment, and finally turned, stood, and faced his twin.

"Kissing your sister," Alec replied, solemn. "What's it look like?" And before Max or Ben could get angry, or, more accurately, _angrier_, he went back to his room, whistling a jaunty tune, like everything wasn't _fucked_, like he hadn't turned their whole world on its ear. Max stared in disbelief at his backside, turned back to look at Ben who'd walked across the room and was crouching before her. Ben reached forward, tentatively, and she suppressed the urge to rip away when his fingers touched her warm, bruised lips, just for a moment.

"I don't like when he touches you." It was almost a mumble. Max wondered if Ben even knew that he said it. She stared at him, wide-eyed. Ben's eyes refocused on her face, on her eyes, still wet with tears. "I'll take care of this, Maxie." He vowed. "I'll fix this. I'll never let him hurt you again."

Max froze. "What do you mean by that?"

Ben smiled slightly, reaching forward again, his hand moving towards the side of her face. She winced away and he frowned. After a moment, he let his hand drop. His voice was firm. "I'll take care of it, Maxie. It'll go back to the way it's supposed to be. Just you and me." Ben nodded to himself, and stood, smiling down at her. "Just you and me, forever." He turned abruptly walking away, leaving Max to stare wide-eyed after after him; after a man that, somehow, somewhere, had gone terribly wrong.

Which is how Max ended up in Alec's room, hardening herself to the cold guilt growing in her belly. "Make the call," She said solemnly.

He stared at her, his eyes grave, and he didn't make a smart ass comment, just nodded, for which she was grateful. She didn't think she could handle anything more right now. She still hadn't forgiven him for his lies, nor did she know if she ever would, but Alec pulled out his cellphone, and she pretended that she felt more than just relief. God she hated him. Hated him so much for lying to her... but she wasn't strong enough; she was no more capable of giving him up than she was of standing by and letting Ben threaten him.

Max didn't know the particulars of the plan. Just knew that it was going to be staged somehow, a hand off in the middle of the day in some corner street alleyway in the abandoned city center; deep within the toxic confines of Terminal City. Alec told her firmly that she wasn't to be anywhere remotely near the site; he wasn't taking the chance that Lydecker reneged on their long-standing agreement and decided to take them all back into the loving arms of Manticore. She'd have argued with him, but she was hardly talking to him.

And for two days she walked on eggshells of guilt and fear, worried that Ben might sense what was happening, worried that one day she would come back to their temporary apartment and Alec's blood would be everywhere and Ben would be cackling to himself in a corner. Her morbid thoughts, driven by her guilt and her fear, weren't always based on the soundest of logics, but that didn't make them any less chilling. It was the longest two days of her life, waiting for the day that she betrayed her brother, and when the day of the handoff finally came, she didn't know whether to weep or to vomit, the stress had her coiled in so many knots.

But things in Max's life never went smoothly. Max had taken to sleeping in the one leather arm chair that graced their tired old apartment; she hated the men in her life too much right now to do otherwise. And on the day of the exchange, she woke up to find Ben gone. When Ben left, who knew when he would be back. Sometimes it would be hours. Sometimes it would be days.

Alec shared a worried glanced with her when they found him missing. It was the first time she'd been able to look in his eyes since he'd made the call two days ago. And who knew how Lydecker would take it if Ben didn't show back up. But he did, later that afternoon, and he frowned into Alec's neutral face with a surprising sense of calmness and normalcy surrounding him.

"What do you mean, new job? How come I haven't heard about it before this?"

"When do I ever tell you ahead of time?" Alec replied in seeming boredom. "You never seem to care anyway. Thought you were just in if for the thrill."

Ben pursed full lips, thinking, and Max had to look away from a face that seemed so sane. She'd grown up with him… escaped with him… was she really going to hand him back to those bastards? Did she really have a choice, anymore?

"You comin', Max?" He paused in the door.

She had to turn. All she could do was shake her head. She couldn't bear to say goodbye; didn't really know how. Alec glanced at her ashen face as he followed Ben out the door. "I'll see you tonight."

She nodded.

It was supposed to be smooth, seamless, last less than an hour. Max didn't hear from Alec for close on to two hours, and then it was a short, clipped message.

"I'm at the hand-off site. He fucking _knows_." And then the line went dead and Max's heart stopped. She broke every traffic law in existence, and nearly ran over more than one sector guard, but she made it to TC in record time. That is, she made it to TC just in time to see the white government van drive away and Alec pick himself off the ground of the dirty alleyway, bleeding, a cut above his eyebrow, somebody else's blood on his knuckles. And all she could do was thank God. He was safe. He was a bastard and she hated him, but he was safe and she'd never been so relieved in her entire life. She flipped the kickstand, turning off the bike, and lifted herself off of the Ninja, crossing to him quickly, crouching next to him so she could help him to his feet.

"Are you okay?" She demanded angrily. "What the hell happened? How did he know?"

Alec shook his head, muted, staggered just a bit; apparently Ben had given him a good fight. Her eyes followed the white van as it disappeared around a corner, and she swallowed painfully.

"It's fine," Alec rasped, shaking his head. "It's for the best, Max." And before she could protest, he leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her mouth. He pulled away after only a moment, no time at all, really.

As much as she should hate him, Max folded herself into his arms, needing the contact, just for a few seconds. He sighed and buried his face in her hair. His hand crested on the top of her dark head, slid down, over her dark hair…

And tightened on the back of her neck.

Max froze.

Alec's smile into her hair had turned dark, almost evil. "Did you really think it would be that easy, _Maxie_?"

Not Alec. "_Ben_."

He didn't let got of her. She'd never been more aware of her spine than she was at that moment, the back of her neck held so securely in his tight hand.

His voice was a hiss against her ear. "Did you think I'd let him take you from me?"

She thought of the kiss he'd pressed to her lips and bile rose in her throat. His hand squeezed and she felt something in her neck shift and some small noise of fear crashed out of her throat. His smile widened and his grip relaxed in pleasure, just a hair.

That's all she needed. Her arms arced upwards, coming up between his and breaking his lock as she simultaneously ducked. His grip tightened, but her neck had escaped his grasp and it was hair that his fingers dug into. He yanked, hard, and she did cry out then, but she wasted no time in slamming her elbow, hard, upwards, and between his knees.

He grunted in pain, releasing her totally, and Max scrambled away, coming to her feet. Even as he crashed to the ground, he reached for her, but Max kicked at his hand and put herself a safe distance from the monster that had once been her brother. How much had she given up for him over the years? Never had she asked for anything back, and now he's taken from her the one thing she wanted, the one thing she'd told herself she could not give up for hm.

Ben's laugh was wheezing as he peered at her stricken face with pain-filled eyes. "Why so shocked?" His voice was laced with agony. "Who do you think Manticore wanted back, Max? The broken toy?" He paused to wheeze, to wince, before continuing. "Nooo, they didn't want _me_. They wanted their golden boy back, their perfect little puppet, the one making plans to run."

Alec. Alec, they'd taken Alec. The white van was gone, and Alec was in it. Her voice was shaking. "I'll never forgive you for this."

Another wheezing laugh. "Maxie... you're mine. You'll always be mine. He'll never be able to take you from-" Her boot caught him in the stomach, the force of it sending him rolling. But when he came to a stop, he laughed again, clutching at his abdomen. Jesus. Who was he?

"I'll get him back," Max said grimly, and Ben's laugh finally died. He stared at her like one might a fascinating animal that refused to fall in with his plans.

"He's gone." Ben said, sounding almost confused. "You'll never see him again. It's just you and me now, Maxie."

"I'll get him back," Max repeated firmly, staring coldly down at her brother. "And if I ever see you again, I'll kill you."

His voice was dark as she turned her back on him. "But you're _mine_." But she kept on walking, trotting almost, towards her bike, towards a machine that she hoped had enough gas to catch up with that van. Ben's voice rose in a manic state of fury, "You'll _always_ be mine."

Too late she heard the safety click off. Too late she recognized the manic tones of a madman. Too late, too late, she was always too late. She always told Alec 'yet', she never thought 'yet' would actually come. She whirled, so fast, too slow, and her wide brown eyes connected with narrowed hazel over the barrel of a gun. The first shot rang out... the bullet went whizzing by her hip, she heard it tear through rubber on one of the wheels of her bike. Slowly, so slowly, the muzzle of the gun moved just slightly... aimed straight at her.

Her heart was so loud in her ears, she could feel the sweat above her brows, did all of this really happen in an instant?

The second gunshot rang out, and Max's eyes closed. Her breath came out in a slow rush, loud in the silence.

But the pain never came. The liquid that you felt, the blood that started seeping before you registered the agony, where was it? She couldn't feel it. Her eyes opened in surprise and she glanced at her body. Her whole, uninjured body. She glanced back up in surprise.

Ben was rocking himself on the ground, clutching his bleeding hand, gasping in pain. The gun was on the ground by his side, by something that an unhappy flip of her stomach told her was surely one of his fingers.

"You thought you could beat me? _Me_?" Alec was leaning against the side of the building, clutching pained ribs with one hand, the other holding onto the gun hanging loosely by his side. "I'm the hero of this story, you crazy fuck."

The laugh that came out of Max was a strange mixture of joy and despair, beginnings and endings, and the tears of anger and relief were almost as painful as the knowledge that the brother that she'd once loved, the brother she could no longer care for, would rather see her dead than happy.

"Alec," She gasped in a hiccupping kind of sob. It was all she was capable of saying.

Alec wouldn't look at her. His face was grim. He pushed himself away from the wall, slowly, limping his way towards Max… and then past. His eyes didn't leave Ben, and his hand tightened on the gun in his hand, still by his side. Max's face drained of color. "Alec," She repeated, but in a different kind of tone, and she caught his arm.

Alec kept his eyes on Ben as he kicked the other man's gun away from his prone form. "It's for the best, Max. If we let him go, we'll never be free of him."

"And if you kill me," Ben's smile was quirked, his eyes still narrowed in pain, squinting up at a blue sky. "Max will never forgive you." He rolled to his side, pushed himself up on one elbow. Blood seeped from between his fingers, still clenching his injured hand. "Doesn't matter what you do. You'll always just be a copy of _me_." Alec hesitated slightly, Max could feel it in his arm. Ben must have seen it as a chance to continue, and his voice was relentless and hateful. "When she looks at you, she'll see me. She'll see how she failed me." Something within Max quieted; something predatory and angry tensed in wariness. Ben smiled, slowly. "And when she finally leaves you, you'll have to live with the fact that she'll always love me _more_."

Alec narrowed his eyes. Not even Max's transgenic strength could stop him from raising the gun and training it on Ben. Ben smiled over the barrel of cold steel. "Do it." Ben's chin lifted in defiance. "Prove me right. Prove that you're just like me… Prove that she can never love you."

Alec took a deep breath. Max's breath caught. His finger tightened on the trigger…

And relaxed. He turned to Max, slumping, his voice turning whiny and pleading. "_Please_ can I kill him?"

Max gaped in shock. Even Ben looked a little taken aback.

"What? Don't ask her permission!" Ben struggled to sit back up. Max kicked him in the shoulder, sending him back down.

"Shut up," She growled at her brother, before turning back to her lover. "No, you can't kill him." She gestured at Ben on the ground, as if it would prove her point somehow. "He's just lying there… helpless."

"I am not-"

"SHUT UP!" Max and Alec turned to snarl at him before turning back towards each other.

"Look," Alec frowned. "If we don't kill _him_, he'll follow us, and I'm pretty sure that he'll try to kill _us_ at some point."

Ben nodded agreeably from the ground, his eyes lighting with an unholy fire, but neither of them noticed.

"And if I do let you kill him," Max argued back. "I'll have to live with that memory for the rest of my life." Ben smirked. But Max turned on him, snarling, "But don't think that means I'm not _extremely_ tempted to let him."

She crouched next to him and their eyes connected. Her voice, when it came, was hard. "Alec and I are leaving. I never want to see you again. And if I do see you…" She trailed off, her eyes going distant, her voice almost a murmur. "Somehow, part of me was prepared for the day that you'd turn on me... but him? I can't let you..." She sighed, and her eyes snapped back to Ben. "Maybe you're right; maybe if I let Alec kill you, I'd never be able to look at him the same way again. So I won't..." Her gaze went hard, her voice, cold. "I won't let him kill you, because if I see you again, if you threaten him again, I'll kill you myself. And I'll just have to learn how to live with that." There wasn't even an ounce of hesitation in her voice. Ben seemed taken aback. He was so surprised, he stared at the spot she had been crouching at long after she'd stood back up and walked back to Alec, who was already limping away.

She ducked under his shoulder and he winced. Broken rib probably. She supported him as best she could, helping him stumble out of the alleyway. They were almost at the entrance when Ben's soft, broken voice stopped them.

"But… I love you, Maxie."

Her eyes softened as she stared unblinking into the open street before her. She smiled, small and sad.

"I don't love you, Ben. I don't think I even know you."

That could have been it, but Ben's eyes deadened. His face hardened.

"I will find you." He scowled, collapsing back into the pavement, nursing his bleeding hand. His scowl turned upwards into a slow smile. "And when I do, I'll kill him in front of you."

Max froze. Her dark eyes turned to ice. Her face was grim as they stepped out of the alleyway into the street. They only took a few steps away from the entrance before she let let Alec stagger a bit, let him lean against the front of the building in the open street. "Wait here," She said gently. "I'm going back for the gun."

"What," Alec attempted to straighten, wincing when his ribs protested. Fucking Manticore trainers… All of 'em hit like they were hyped up on crack. Speaking of which, they should probably get out of here before Lydecker started wondering why his retrieval team wasn't answering their radio. "Max, don't go back there."

"Please," Max rolled her eyes. "You heard him, Alec. He wants to kill you, not me."

"I'm pretty sure I stopped him from shooting you a few minutes ago," Alec replied incredulously.

It's funny how her kiss could always shut him up. "It'll be fine," She whispered against his mouth. "I'll be right back."

Alec sighed, leaning back into the building, his eyes shutting, the pain racing through his body making time warp and weave in strange ways. How long was he alone there?

How long did he rest with his eyes closed before the gunshot made him straighten, eyes snapping open, heart climbing to his throat.

Fuck.

Max.

_No_.

He staggered away from the building, it was only a few steps away, why was it taking so long to get to the fucking alleyway. His hand tightened on the corner, he pulled himself straight and tall and-

Almost ran into Max.

"Jesus!"

"Alec," Max's face was concerned. His face was white and drawn, panicked almost. "Are you okay?!"

He staggered backwards, clutching his chest, willing his heart to calm. "Christ, Max! I heard the gun go off! I thought-" He shook his head. "I thought-" But he was unable to finish the thought, the idea of Max, dead, still, unseeing, it was too much and he couldn't say it aloud.

"It's fine," She sighed. She held the gun aloft in her hand. "See? Max has the gun, everything is fine."

"Ben-" Alec started.

"It's fine." She repeated firmly. "We had a talk. I made it clear that the one thing he would most definitely not be doing would be hurting you."

Alec stared at her blinking. Before smiling large. "Oh Max, you sure know how to make a girl feel special."

"I can't believe I love an idiot like you," Max muttered back darkly. Alec stared at her, shell-shocked. "What?" She hunched into herself defensively, blushing. Had she really just admitted that crap out loud? "Don't think that means I forgive you for lying to me for two years, you jackass."

He couldn't help the smile. His arm descended around her shoulder once more and her annoyance was forgotten as she struggled to help him limp down the street and out of Terminal City. The smile fell. His voice was strange and soft. "We're all broken, you know."

"What?"

"Nothing," He sighed. Then added, "I miss Italy."

Her eyes were distant. He wondered if she even heard him.

"Hmm? What?" She glanced up at him, before shaking her head, her face firming, her mind going back to the long walk ahead of them. "Oh. Yeah. Me too."

Not like they could go back there, not anymore. But Alec's voice was almost tentative. "You know, I'm not really a good man, Max..." She glanced at him, but he kept his eye on the wavering street before him. "Not all the jobs we took came from Manticore... I don't think they know about even half of the houses we own." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, and if there was shame there, she couldn't see it through her small smile and the vision of a simple yellow house, overlooking the sea.

_Epilogue_

She checked in the bags. He took another long pull from the glass. Alec had always hated flying. One of those weird idiosyncrasies of his. Man wasn't scared of anything… except for big planes and small spaces. And that's the only way he caught it.

He leaned forward over the bar, his gaze narrowing. "Hey pal, can you turn it up?"

The bartender rolled his eyes, but paused in wiping down the bar to turn up the volume anyway.

_-body of the suspected killer was recovered from Terminal City earlier this week. Authorities have only recently released that the man, in his early twenties, had been shot at point blank range. With recent budget cuts, investigation remains-_

Alec backed out of his lean, frowning slightly.

"Crazy world, huh?" The bartender shook his head slightly. "Whack jobs all over the place… The new Eyes Only exposing that weird Manti-thingy…"

Alec blinked… "I'm sorry, what was that last thing?"

"You know…" The man blinked. "What you live under a rock or something? Eyes Only got replaced by some dame or something. Started talking about some weird government lab out in the middle of nowhere that were cooking up some weird genetic super soldiers. Transgenics or something. She started preaching some S1W bull after that, so I turned it off, but-"

"Almost done, Alec?" Max's arms descended around his shoulders as she leaned over him, smiling slightly into his blank face. "Don't tell me you're still scared…"

"No, no." He shook his head, stared again at the tv, just for a moment. Finally he shrugged, and stood, pulling his wallet free and dropping some bills on the bar. "Keep the change man. Europe doesn't recognize the dollar anyway."

The bartender sighed as the couple walked away, the man's arm slung over the woman's shoulder. Some people have it all you know… But he stopped in a strange voyeuristic type of surprise as the man kissed the woman's dark hair and said in an unashamed tone, loud enough for anyone to hear. "I really do love you, you know? Even if you are a crazy bitch."

She shrugged in response, not at all turned off, and turned a smile up at him. "You just have that affect on me, I guess."


	17. Z, Part One

_Z is for Zoo_

Part One

Rated M

A/N: This one is a really, really, really, really long one. It's around 82 pages so far and not yet complete. It doesn't count as a one-shot anymore, but I couldn't bring myself to scrap it and start over with something light and lovely. And, meh, with it being my final alphabet peice, I figure I'm allowed to end it in a big way. I'll try to upload it in segments so your eyes don't start to bleed. It was written to be read as a continous flow, in the way of one-shots... but 82 pages of continuous flow? Yeah. Eye bleeding. So I tried to break it up a little bit for you.

* * *

The flag was supposed to draw them together, unite them. And it had… the first time. On the one year anniversary of the event, during the _second_ raising ceremony, that was when the world as she knew it ended. That's when everything went to shit, because that's when he left, and took almost every able-bodied X-4, X-5, and X-6 with him.

And nothing would ever be the same again.

The earlier models of the X-series, the X-2's and X-3's… maybe they were human on the outside, but most of them were more animal on the inside than any X-5 during the worst Heat episode. And maybe it was because of that, but they'd never been totally cohesive with the later models, the ones that had rebelled; so, of them, some left, but the majority stayed. Most of the transhumans, the original transgenics, stuck around too. And Joshua? How could he bear to be parted from Max? Really, Joshua's choice had seemed so obvious in advance, that Alec hadn't risked telling the larger man what was going down on the very likely probability that he would tell Max. So really, the tall transhuman, First, Joshua, was just as surprised as she was when the day finally came.

Mole naturally went with him as his so-called 'Second'. He'd given Max's way a try… for an entire _year_. Nothing had come of her brilliant, inspirational speech. The government didn't want to _fight_ them. Hell, they didn't _need_ to fight them, they had the transgenics right where they wanted them; contained under the public eye, penned up in a cage, safely behind bars masquerading as chainlink fence.

They were all just tame little freaks locked up in a zoo.

Alec's voice had been very carefully detached, not that that had fooled Mole one little bit. "It's her own fault, anyway. Max has always been so busy helping Eyes Only, chasing after the cure, playing her twisted little back and forth game with Logan and with White." Alec had allowed himself a small, bitter shake of the head, and Mole had nodded after a long moment. But that wasn't all; the younger man had continued, his face hardening to impassive stone. "She's the one that let it get this far. And now I'm the one that's got to take the fall for it."

Mole had just arched one nonexistent eyebrow. "And I suppose Casey had nothing to do with it."

Alec had cocked a shotgun, staring studiously down its deadly barrel, and said nothing. It didn't matter, he didn't need to say anything anyway. Really, in a way, this was as much Casey's fault as it was Max's. But he'd made his choice, and there was nothing left but to follow through.

Luke and Dix couldn't bear to be parted from their brainchild; their precious computer systems, but if it weren't for that, Max thinks they might have left as well.

Standing on that rooftop, staring into each other's eyes, the flag that had been torn down crumpled in the dust between them… It was a betrayal of the worst kind. Maybe she had felt it coming, deep within her, but on the surface she hadn't been expecting it. And one thing was for certain; she never thought it would have come from him. _Him_, of all people.

"If not me," He'd looked her dead in the eye as he'd destroyed everything she'd thought she'd patchworked together. "Then who? Trust me, Max. Better me than somebody else."

Mole, at Alec's right hand, had hefted the shotgun, letting the barrel rest against his shoulder. Her eyes had flicked to it before going back to _him_. Was it really that much of a surprise? Hadn't she always been pulling him out of scrapes after Manticore? Hadn't she always said that he wasn't to be trusted?

Hadn't that all changed? Hadn't she trusted him with everything? She shook it all away.

"So what is this?" She'd demanded. Joshua was at her back, Logan at her side, and they had only stared across the roof in shocked silence. A low-pitched whine of grief and disbelief came pouring from Josh's unhappy throat. Max had ignored it, continuing in a harsh voice, "This supposed to be your polite way of asking me to step down?" Her tense shoulders, her ready stance, had told him she was prepared to fight for her position.

"I'm not asking you anything, Max." Alec had stared blandly back, because he hadn't come here to fight. The outcome had been determined months ago, while she'd been busy being oblivious to the gathering storm, chasing after True Love, or Destiny, or some other kind of bullshit. "I'm telling you I'm leaving, and a few hundred of my friends happen to be coming with me."

Max didn't know which made her madder; the fact that leadership had been taken from her, or that she hadn't even had a say, hadn't even gotten to fight for it; they'd all just sort of stepped around her, like so much useless garbage… she hadn't even gotten a chance to defend herself. And she still wasn't entirely sure why they'd all left. She hadn't done anything wrong! Everything had been going relatively well!

She remembered angrily shouting something along those lines at Alec's back, remembered wanting to throw something at him; a brick, maybe, or a shoe, her engagement ring, _anything_. Someone in Alec's vicinity had snorted. He hadn't. He'd paused as he'd walked away from her, as her words rang through the air; she thought for sure he'd turn around, look at her over his shoulder, let a little condescending smile trip over his lips… but he hadn't. He'd paused… and then he'd kept walking, and all of his cronies, his generals, or his squad leaders, whatever the hell he was calling them, they all just fell in behind him.

Did she really mean so little to him that she wasn't even worth an explanation? She thought about it some nights, staring broodingly out a window and into darkness, the sound of Logan's even breathing, soft in slumber, filling the silence behind her. He'd been her friend, and her confidante, and she hadn't even been worth an explanation.

Sometimes though, when Max thought back on it, sometimes, just maybe, a small part of her was relieved that it had been him; that it was Alec that would guide those X's that had wanted out from under her admittedly unconventional leadership. They would have left anyway, something small sometimes whispered, and maybe would have found someone worse to lead them: Alec wouldn't war-monger, Alec would keep a cool-head. After all, Alec was one of the best tacticians she'd had. It was something, anyway.

The rest of her squashed that traitorous little voice whenever it came up. She was _furious_. He had _betrayed_ her. She'd trusted him with her back, and while she'd been turned, focused on finding the cure that had made her engagement to Logan possible, he'd stabbed her in it. She wanted to tear him limb from limb and, when it was all over, grind her foot into his dust and spit on his memory. Max wanted Alec McDowall _dead_. Or, at the very least, broken and bleeding, groveling at her feet, begging for mercy.

Naturally, he gave her none of those things. All he gave her, the next time she saw him, was the feeling of soft lips and a memory of a hard kiss that she could not scrub away. A feeling and a memory that, despite Logan's diamond on her finger, she wasn't entirely sure she _wanted_ to scrub away. Logan asked in a flat voice if she loved Alec and she answered in all honesty, 'no.'

It happened six months after he left and took the majority of the X-series with him. He just kind of… rambled in one day, like nothing had ever happened. She had less people to work with, so it wasn't really a surprise that someone as practiced as him was able to slip past all the sentries and walk right into the ghost town that was Terminal City these days. She heard the door swing open, and something tickled the edge of all her senses, right before Joshua's eyes lit in bittersweet happiness... so Max kind of knew it was him before she turned around. And then she did turn around, and all that rage that she'd been trying so hard to release these past few months came flaring back, lighting some kind of infernal fire within her.

"Max," He nodded, like he hadn't fucking mutinied and usurped her command, like they were still _friends_. Friends; Max wanted to spit at the word. His eyes darted downwards, connected with the ring still on her right hand, the diamond that Logan had given her shortly before they'd raised the flag and one of Alec's cronies had ripped it back down.

Something dark and animal coiled through her body, told her to launch herself at him, to hurt him; make him bleed, make him beg. Make him pay for everything he'd taken from her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She demanded in an angry snarl. He seemed surprised for a moment; like he hadn't been expecting the anger. Well, what had he expected? Then he got defensive and his eyes got hard as they swung back up. Mole had told him from the beginning that there would be no coming back from what he'd done; it was probably too much to hope that eventually she would understand. Then again, Mole had also told him it was a bad idea to go back to Seattle.

"You want your crap back so bad, send one of your lackeys to get it," Mole had said around the cigar, puffing away despite the charred and faded 'no smoking' sign posted on the outside of the building. Alec had smirked and opened the car door anyway.

"It's my stuff, I'll get it. Besides, I got to meet with one of my contacts. Shady bastard wouldn't trust anyone else I sent."

Mole had finally pulled the cigar from his mouth, straightening from his lean. "Don't pretend for a second that I don't know that the first thing you'll do when you get to Seattle is go see-"

"Sorry, Mole, I'd love to stay and chat and all, but-" Alec had shrugged, slipping into the driver's side of the dark car, closing the door on all of his Second's objections. Still felt weird, sometimes, referring to Mole as his Second. Sometimes it all felt so goddamn surreal...

"It's your ass," Mole had muttered to himself, before the door next to him slammed open, almost making him jump, and the Norse Ice Goddess herself came storming out of the keep. She wrenched open the passenger car door before Alec could put the car into drive, slipped into the car, slammed the door shut, and folded her arms across her chest, staring obstinately out the window.

"Uhh, Casey-"

"Don't even start with me." She fumed. "I had to hear from _Dalton _you were leaving, and believe you me, I could _murder _you right now."

"Casey-"

"I lost you once," She still refused to look at him. "I'm not losing you again."

Alec and Mole's eyes had connected through the windshield, just for a moment. _Women_. But finally, he'd just shrugged. Alec hadn't liked it, but it was easier to just let her come along. Not that any of that was relevant to the situation. Well, except for the fact that Mole had been right. Max still wasn't over it, would probably never be over it, and yet this was the first place that Alec had come. It was almost like he couldn't help himself. But he hadn't been expecting the rising anger, the rage that answered her own. Why _didn't _she get it? Why _wasn't _she over it? Did she still not know what had almost happened to her?

"You still don't get it, do you?" Alec voiced aloud, sneering, because sneering was easier, and less painful, than admitting he didn't want her to hate him. "I _told _you, better me than somebody like Levi." She opened her mouth to throw something scathing in response, partly because she had no idea who the hell Levi was, but he talked right over her, flippant and seemingly uninterested in her and her anger. "Besides, I'm not here to see you. I came to talk to Josh, a few of my contacts, and pick up my stuff. I don't have time for this."

Like she was so unimportant. Six months had passed, but nothing had changed. He was still in charge, she was still alone, angry, betrayed, and he was still standing before her telling her that she still wasn't worth the explanation; wasn't even worth the visit. That dark thing that wanted him to bleed took the reins. Alec had crashed into the side of an empty table, most tables were empty nowadays, before either of them really realized what she was starting with her fist. He righted himself slowly, his hand coming up and wiping blood away from the corner of his mouth. He looked at the red staining his fingertips in a kind of narrow-eyed amusement, tinged with disbelief, while her body sang in dark, thrumming release. He almost laughed. Almost. His gaze hardened, and swung up to catch hers, her own eyes still slightly unfocused, still surprised at the force of her anger, of her fist, still shocked by the dark stirrings in her body that felt a lot like some sick kind of desire. Her face firmed under his hard stare. Joshua made a sound of unhappy protest that they both ignored.

"And you wonder why everyone couldn't _wait_ to get away from you." Shoulders flexed beneath dark material.

"Alec-" Joshua protested.

Images of fire and fighting, pleasure and pain, flashed through her mind in an amber torrent that made her body crackle, that she tried to ignore, that she tried to cover with a disgusted tone. "Just bring it, Pretty Boy."

"Max," Joshua whined. Alec's body tensed, readied to spring.

That's when somebody slid out of the shadows. "Alec, we really _don't _have time for this." Max recoiled out of her ready position, surprised by the face that the shadows revealed. The _somebody_was somebody gorgeous, (i.e. standard transgenic fare, Max noted, controlling the roll of her eyes). She was all pale skin and lithe muscles, in a body as taut as a bowstring, too athletic to ever really be considered curvaceous. Her silvery blonde hair was tied back in a simple knot at the nape of her neck, and her neutral face couldn't disguise the impatience burning behind large, golden eyes that seemed familiar somehow.

It registered in an instant. That day, that day that Alec had taken everything from her, Mole had been at Alec's right, his cohorts had been at his back, but this girl… She'd been at Alec's left, and her eyes had blazed like the sun, shining in vindication.

Max didn't know the girl, but oh, how she hated her.

The clothes, though…

Max's eyes swung back to Alec. His clothes were like the girl's; dark, simple, and a far cry from the urban things he'd used to slum around Jam Pony in. Nothing fancy, nothing meant to be stylish, something simply chosen for efficiency; dark cargo pants and a black t-shirt that hugged his form, clothes that probably helped him blend with the night outside the doors. Actually, his clothes almost _exactly_ matched the girl's, almost like they'd been issued. In fact, everything about the two people before her screamed standard-military-issue, from the top of his short hair and her careful knot, to the bottom of their identical, shiny, black boots. His hair was so short, in fact, that when he turned away from her (what, why was he turning away from her?), she had no problem seeing the black lines of his barcode. Her dark anger turned in disbelief at his arrogance. He-

Was walking away from her and the pent-up fight that was sizzling like electricity in the air. "I guess I'll hunt you down later." He called over his shoulder, and Max was unsure if he was talking to Josh or to her. The platinum blonde fell in behind him, and before Max could even get a good dig in, they were gone.

"Alec changing," Joshua murmured to himself. If Max heard him, she didn't say anything. She did turn and look at him when Joshua clarified by adding, "Changing _back_."

Changing back? Into what? A _soldier_? That's certainly what the wardrobe malfunction was pointing towards. She turned to look at the still swinging doors, her eyes narrowing. How _dare_ he, after everything she'd done for him.

Everything she'd done for him. In her anger and bitterness, she really believed that she'd taken him out of Manticore, that she'd let him into her life. And he'd taken _everything_ from her. All because she'd never taken the Manticore out of him. It didn't occur to her that she'd kicked him out of her life more times than she'd actually let him in, that every gain he'd made was because of his efforts, not from hers. Physically, she may have saved him from himself a few times, but mentally, he'd struggled in obscurity for close to two years before he caught wind of the dark rumblings gathering below Max and had diverted the massive tide of mutiny in the only way he could; by joining it.

In truth, maybe it was because he was too good at hiding himself; he always seemed so put together, how was Max supposed to know the dark teachings of Manticore were still roiling underneath? But if they were being _completely_ honest, she had known, just didn't know how to reach him after that one small offering, the one after Berrisford, the one he'd refused. To be honest, she didn't know if she'd even wanted to reach him; everything with Logan was always so difficult, and she had White on her back, and she just didn't have time-

All those thoughts crossed her mind as a confusing mass of emotion in the span of a few moments, and Max stormed out of Command before Joshua could try and talk her into calmness, before even she could really decipher what was going on in her head.

She almost went to Logan's, despite the late hour. She went to the Space Needle instead, and froze by the chainlink that attempted to quarantine the aging structure from the public. A platinum blonde with golden eyes was lounging against a dark car parked within the fence, checking and rechecking the thirty round clip of a, go figure, standard military issue M-9 in something that looked a lot like boredom. Max could have turned and left. She snuck around the back, instead. And climbed hundreds of steps to find him waiting for her.

"Had a feeling I'd find you here."

Déjà vu.

"You didn't find me," Her voice was hard and empty. "I found you."

Lips twisted and lifted. Her eyes followed the curve of his mouth as it tugged upwards. The city was an ocean of lights in inky darkness behind his back. It would be so easy to take, one, two, three steps, and shove him hard enough to send him tumbling off the edge of the skyscraper.

The unwanted, unbidden violence of the thought shocked her from her stare, and her eyes wrenched upwards, connected with hazel eyes that were studying her. He still seemed almost amused, almost gentle, like he could read all her thoughts and understood every single one of them.

"Do you know what happens to animals when they're locked in a zoo, Max?"

She took her first step. "When have you ever been to a zoo?" Did those even exist anymore? Did it even matter? Had anything really mattered since he'd left?

"Seen 'em in movies," He replied snidely. She almost took another step, but he eyed her, like he was weighing her, and added, a touch softer, "Just once, when I was nine. It was a few months before the Pulse hit." Her step faltered and aborted, her foot came back down to connect with graffitied steel.

So many things she could say. 'I don't care,' or 'Shut up,' or maybe even a 'Shut up, I don't care, drop dead.' All she could come up with was a stupid, "Really? Why?"

He ignored her, and it was a good thing, because she could probably guess what use Manticore could have for an unnoticeable child in an already bustling area overrun with children, and she probably didn't want to know anyway. Was it any wonder that there was darkness within him? Hadn't she always known that Manticore had broken them all before they'd even been given a chance?

"There was this tiger display," He mused aloud, eyes going distant. There was that quirking smile again. "You could tell the ones that were born in captivity. They were all just lying around, waiting for the handout from their keepers. But one of them, he was bigger than all of the others… and he just kept pacing, back and forth, at the bars of his cage." His eyes focused and connected with hers. His smile fell, his face became solemn. "And even though no one was allowed close enough to the cage to find out, you could just _feel_ the anger and the rage; you just knew that if he had to go through you to be free, he'd do it in a heartbeat."

"Well, yeah, Alec, it was a tiger." Max resolutely forced herself to take the second step towards him.

"No, Max, he was a _caged_ tiger. And therein lies all the difference."

Max lifted a food to take her third step, but Alec abruptly sprang forward and his hands connected with her shoulders, sending her stumbling backwards, towards the maintenance door that led back into the relative safety of the Space Needle.

"What did you think?" He laughed, "That I'd just let you shove me off the top of this thing?"

She straightened quickly. "What? I wasn't going to do that!" What did he take her for, some kind of murderous psychopath? Okay, so a tiny, dark part of her had offered up the idea. That didn't mean she was actually going to do it.

"Please." He sneered. "It was written all over your face."

When, and why, had he started to hate her? What did it matter, because she hated him right back. _But it wasn't supposed to be like this_. She ignored the soft voice inside her mind and she scowled at him. "We're not all sociopaths like you Alec. I was going to settle for punching you in the face."

His arms came up, lazy and loose, his hands tightening into fists. "Well come on and try then."

She wanted to ask him where the hell his head was, what the hell was he thinking? He knew how she hated him, why would he give her the opportunity to draw blood? And why should she give him the satisfaction…

But oh, he _so_ had this coming.

A jab to the face, that he sidestepped easily, set him up for a quick kick to the inside of his thigh. He sprang backwards, his eyes widening in shock, then narrowing in annoyance. It was almost funny, except while she was smirking, he took two long steps towards her, and Max had to duck suddenly to avoid a fist flying towards her face.

"How dare you," She ground out. She elbowed upwards, but he batted it away with little effort. Max came back to her feet quickly, arms still defensive and ready. "What right do you have to be mad at _me_?" She punctuated it with a fist of her own, aimed at his diaphragm.

His face was grim as he slid out of the way, his hands grabbing at her forearm, and he used her momentum to send her spinning away from him, back again towards safety, away from the edge, dangerously close. He didn't answer her as she stalked back towards him, mostly because he didn't have one. Why was he angry at her? Because he'd been forced into leadership that he didn't want? Because she'd never even seen it coming? He was before her now, staring down at her, face solemn, eyes angry, and still he had no reason. Was it just because she'd said _yes_?

It was almost ironic; she backhanded him, and her '_yes'_ ring scraped across his face, the prongs holding Logan's rock cutting into his skin. He glanced up at her; her eyes were on the side of his face, where blood welled, and they were dark again, like they had been in Command; like there was something animal in her pacing at her edges, waiting for the chance to come out.

Let it come out then, and let it all finally be over with.

"Do I need a reason?" He smiled slowly. "You've always been a bitch."

She was already next to him, she didn't need to take any steps. Her arms came up and she _shoved_ with all her transgenic might. He'd been prepared for it, so he only staggered two steps backwards, the first step heavy, the second step hitting nothing but air. Max's eyes widened, and she latched onto his dark shirt before he could completely tumble off the Space Needle; before she could prove her poisonous reputation all too true, and be the cause of another transgenic's death. They stood like that for a moment, Max's arms taut, straining with his weight, Alec far too over the edge for her liking, one leg dangling in darkness.

"Would you please," She huffed with effort, "Step back on the goddamn building."

"So says the woman that just tried to push me off of it," He scowled back, but did so quickly. His foot connecting with the solid safety of the Space Needle sent energy crackling up his spine and his body thrummed with adrenaline; his back felt slick with sweat. He felt electrified and alive, like the world was waiting and he was out of options; like something needed to happen, and it needed to happen _now_. He eyed her mouth for just a moment... And then it took only one more step for him to put himself dangerously close to her, for him to press himself against her, bury his hands in her hair, and angle her mouth to meet his own.

As kisses go, it was pretty spectacular. Heady and heated, it sent every nerve ending in her body into full tilt, crackling with fire and excess energy. She might have compared it to any number of kisses she'd shared with Logan, but at this particular moment, she wasn't even entirely sure who Logan was. Or who she was. Or how'd she'd gone this long without kissing Alec, who seemed to be the only thing she _was_ sure of right now. _Alec, _as his mouth slanted over hers again and again. _Alec, _as he grasped her arms, and she gasped, and he delved deeper. _Alec_ was all she knew, all she wanted to know.

So, naturally, she needed to escape. A step away, and he followed, wouldn't give in. She broke away, and she was shuddering and oh gross, was that her staring up at him, eyes wide, lips trembling, like she was some kind of ridiculous romance novel heroine? Was that her, the coward, the escape artist, taking another step away from, unable to fight him, just wanting to run, run, run? She kept stepping away, and he kept following, until the small of her back hit a doorknob, and she gasped in pain and surprise. Her hand came up behind her back, clenched tightly around the key to her freedom, just as Alec put one arm up against the doorframe, and leaned in.

Max slid out of the way and wrenched open the door, smacking Alec in the forehead, and she ducked under his arm and through the doorway before he could even finish cursing or bring his hand up to his head. She didn't immediately bolt for the stairwell, but she did hide herself pretty well, trying to calm her breathing, slow her heartrate. It didn't matter anyway, because Alec didn't immediately bust through the doorway, like she thought he would. Like that was a big surprise; when did Alec ever do what she expected?

For a long moment, nothing happened, and then, finally, the door opened, and Alec stepped through, face grim, a little haunted. He scanned the darkness quickly. She held her breath, and pressed herself closer to the wall, though all of the abandoned work equipment and crates were already doing a good enough job of hiding her. Not that she was _really _hiding... she... just didn't want to deal with... whatever this was. He must not have seen her, because he slumped, and sighed, and started making for the exit, muttering to himself. As he passed by her, not hiding, but hidden, spot, she heard him clearly enough.

_"Stupid, stupid, so fucking stupid. Mole told me not to come back to the goddamn Zoo, why the fuck didn't I listen-"_

He wrenched open the door to the emergency stairwell, and the echoing sound of his boots hitting stairs met her ears before the door even fell shut. She slumped into darkness.

And for one long moment, for some unknown reason, almost felt like she wanted to cry. She was just like him, then; stupid, stupid, so fucking stupid.

She waited a few moments before she followed him down, through the echoing stairwell, into the outside air. She opened the heavy exit door in time to see him get into the passenger side of the black sedan. The blonde woman glanced up in surprise, almost like a wary animal that had sensed a threat, and their eyes connected over the top of the car. They stayed like that for a moment, brown locked with gold, frozen in surprise, before the sound of a window being rolled down caught their attention and Alec's annoyed voice, "What are you waiting for, Casey, an invitation? Let's _go_, already," rang out. The blonde rolled her eyes and slipped into the driver's side, gunning the engine before Alec could notice Max. Max wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Alec, who finally noticed her in the side mirror as they were pulling away, didn't know either.

"Where to?" Casey's usually vibrant voice had an edge of bite to it, one that Alec didn't feel like blunting right now. Drops of water hit the windshield. Casey scowled at them.

Alec thought for a moment. Where else was there to go? To go see Josh? Tell him sorry I put everything you knew into upheaval? Sorry I screwed up our family? Like sorry would ever be good enough.

"Let's just meet with the contact and get the hell out of here," He grumped, rubbing at his forehead. "I'm tired."

Casey flicked on the windshield wipers as the rain hardened. "I hate Seattle," Her dark mutter reverberated through the compartment. Alec stared out the window and into darkness. In honesty, he didn't know whether or not he agreed.

Max, left alone in the sudden downpour, was staring up at a night sky balefully, blinking away water, thinking thoughts very similar to Casey's. And then from nowhere, the memory of a kiss, his kiss, seared through her body, and everything went tight, right before everything got guilty.

"What do you mean, you kissed him?" Logan's voice was flat. He didn't even budge, or offer to find a towel for her, despite her rather unenchanting resemblance to a drowned cat.

Why had she told him? Stupid guilt, always getting in the way. She'd avoided Josh, and opened the door to her office, and _he'd _been there, and he'd _looked _at her, and of course it just _had _to pop out of her mouth.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant! _I_ didn't kiss _him_!" She corrected herself, "_He_ kissed _me_!"

"Why?" His voice was still that deadpan, 'you've disappointed me' tone, that Max always dreaded hearing.

"Because I saved his life?" She shrugged, not as indifferent as she appeared; more caged, moody, ready to spring, ready to lash out, then she let on.

Logan blinked in surprise before he demanded, "When?"

It just kind of slipped out. "Right after I inadvertently tried to kill him."

"What?" Logan asked, and for a moment looked confused. For a moment, Max felt confused herself. She shook it away, crossed the distance to her desk, all the while wondering why had he been waiting for her, anyway? Had someone told him that Alec had been in, is that why he was hanging out in her office, well after midnight? That must be it... After all, he had immediately seemed to know of whom she'd been speaking.

"It doesn't matter, anyway." She muttered darkly. "He's left with Cassie, or Casey, or whatever the hell her name is."

"Who?"

Max sank into her chair and swiveled to face him, her voice deceptively light. "Gee, Logan, throw a 'where' and a 'how' in there, and we're well on our way to a journalistic masterpiece."

"Wait a minute," He shook his head at her scathing sarcasm. "Why are you mad at _me_? You're the one that-"

She cut him off before he could finish the accusation that would undoubtedly lead to an even larger argument. "Hey, don't even _go_ where I think you're going! I didn't do anything wrong! This is all _his_ fault!"

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes guarded. She could never read him. Sometimes, Logan was more a mystery to her then Alec was. It was only further testimony, when completely out of nowhere, he asked her, "Do you love him?"

"What?" It was her turn to demand, straightening in her seat. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

Logan stood resolute before her desk. "One that, as your fiancée, I believe I have the right to ask. Do – you – love – him?" He repeated, enunciating each word precisely.

"I trusted him!" She shot back sharply, her eyes narrowing. "He was supposed to be my back-up, my Second, and he _betrayed_ me. He took _everything_ from me! So how the hell can you stand there and ask me something as stupid as 'do I love him?'"

He paused, his mouth snapping shut, his blue eyes narrowing. "You're always saying that..."

It was her turn to pause, her mind scanning her words. What had she even said? It'd all been a garbled outpouring of feelings, a snarling mess. Thought had hardly gone into it. "Saying what?" She demanded.

"That he took _everything_. What is everything, Max?" Logan's voice was relentless, his sharp, canny eyes scanning her face for some kind of answer.

She opened her mouth... and then closed it, because she didn't have an answer for him. What _was _everything? What had Alec taken from her? Quite a few things, obviously. Her command, a whole hell of a lot of her pride, about 7/10ths of a populace that she hadn't been sure she wanted to lead, a handful of her good friends, and a few bucketfuls of her already woefully lacking trust in people. That, and himself. He'd also taken himself away, but naturally, that hardly counted. What had he taken?

... Just... everything... he'd just taken... everything.

Logan asked, one final time.

"Do you love him, Max?"

"No, Logan," She answered tiredly. "No, I don't love him."

How could she love Alec? Sometimes, she was quite sure that she didn't even _know_ him. But really, as her memory once more tripped across the feeling of warm lips and shuddering breaths, did she really know herself?

His kiss had been burned into her brain, and nothing could remove his brand. Not even when she kissed another man, six months later, and vowed that she would stop stalling the wedding, even though, she insisted, she hadn't been _stalling_. She just wasn't… ready.

But could she ever be ready, what with Alec's kiss, a memory of gold, Alec's betrayal, an epitome of black, and her so focused upon a man that was not the man that she should marry?

Logan was tired of waiting, so she supposed she had to be.

* * *

"Dix called."

Alec was leaning over his desk, knuckles against an oversized map, and he didn't bother to look up at the hiss of oversized doors or the familiar voice, intruding upon his space. He frowned, his eyes rapidly scanning the hand-drawn map below his fists.

Mole continued anyway, leaning there near the large doors. He almost sounded apologetic. "It's over, man. She's getting married."

Alec gave no indication that he'd heard. He tapped the left side of the map with his finger. "I need you to put another work crew on the western wall. I'm tired of that fucking hole."

Mole just frowned. "Did you hear me? I said-"

Alec straightened from his lean, fixing his second with a dark stare. "I heard you. Max and Logan are finally celebrating their epic love before all of God and creation." He rolled his eyes, swiped the map from his desk, and rolled that as well. "Did _you_ hear _me_? I want that blast hole taken care of."

Mole just stared blandly at his commander. "You don't fool me, you know."

Alec didn't reply, just sat down into his well-padded chair, frowning up at the transhuman. They stared each other down for a long moment, before Alec finally gave in, shrugging in what appeared to be disinterest, tapping his rolled map against the desk in boredom. "Fine, you want me to act like I care?" Alec straightened, almost perky. "When's the wedding? Are they writing their own vows? Are they going to release doves? You know my heart just melts thinking about it." Alec released a sicky sweet, sarcastic sigh, batting thick eyelashes.

Mole snorted in something close to amusement, straightening and crossing to his friend's large desk. "The wedding's next week. Also, your bitterness is giving you away. It'd be more believable if you weren't trying so hard to be an ass about it."

"I was actually trying to be a dick."

"Well, you're better at being a smart aleck. Stick to what you know." Mole shrugged, leaning into the side of one of the black leather chairs sitting before Alec's desk. Maybe it was pointless, but Mole offered it anyway. "They're still living in the Zoo."

That made Alec frown. "What, still? I'd have thought that Logan would have made her move out by now… How is that guy surviving the toxins?"

"Transfusions?" Mole shrugged. "How the hell should I know? Dix just called, told me they're tying the knot, and gave me the latest info on a Familiar attack. Didn't exactly give me a rundown on all the happenings since the last one."

Alec shook his head, relaxing back into his chair. "Another Familiar attack, and they're playing at weddings?" He glanced sharply at his second. "Any losses?"

"Nah, but Dix tells me that Logan recognized one of the Familiars when she was slithering her way out of T.C.. Brown, or Browning, or something like that. Supposedly she was just appointed as the liaison between Seattle and D.C.; to keep the government up to speed on all the transgenic doings, or some bullshit like that."

"Like those transgenics do anything besides sit around and look pretty." Alec looked away.

"And distract everybody from the fact that over half of T.C.'s former population is missing," Mole pointed out.

"That too," Alec was frowning, swiveling back and forth in his chair. The map tapped his chin thoughtfully. "So, the new liaison is a snake-worshipper."

"Wouldn't doubt that the Cult will feed false information through her to get D.C. riled up," Mole shrugged. Alec paused, and nodded after a moment. Maybe that was the real reason Mole had come in to bother him. Mole had liked Max well enough to begin with, but by the time they'd left, things had been getting pretty heated. And he'd never been nearly as close to Max as Alec had once tried, and failed, to be. Another Cult member in a position of authority, however… This was something that needed to be taken care of.

"I suppose this means we should send a team out to Seattle."

Mole nodded. "I can have them ready in a couple of hours."

Alec frowned, like Mole had known he would. "No, no, I think I'll take care of this one myself. Besides," He stood, and offered the transhuman a lopsided smile. "I should go pay my respects to the happy couple."

Mole shook his head, and offered a bland, "Mazel tov." Then he paused, just for a second. "You may want to let Casey know that you're leaving this time; she won't like it if you try to run off to see Max without telling her."

"I'm not going so I can see Max, I'm going to take care of business," Alec scowled in all seriousness, and maybe he believed that, but Mole didn't, not for a second.

"Still-" Mole started with a shrug.

"Casey's not the boss of me," Alec interrupted warningly, tossing the rolled map onto the desk. "And the sooner she gets that, the happier she'll be."

Mole just shrugged again. "Whatever you say, boss." He didn't much care for Casey anyway; sometimes he wondered what kind of hold that girl had over Alec that he was always sticking up for her, letting her get away with bitchiness that could put even Max to shame. That could have been it, he could have just left it at the shrug and walked out, but Mole eyed Alec up and down. Alec didn't notice, he was too busy frowning broodingly at his desktop. Which means he was startled when Mole's bland voice split the air.

"You remember when you used to be fun?"

Alec stared for a moment before letting out a small, self-deprecating laugh. He brought a hand up to scratch embarrassedly at the back of his neck. "Not really… That bad, huh?"

"I used to think Max was depressing." Mole smirked as way of an answer.

"Man, Max broke out in 2009." Alec joked with a haunted kind of smile, "She couldn't work up even _half_ the gloominess I could produce on an _off_ day."

"Hey pal, try livin' in a basement for the first thirty years of your life; then you can talk to _me_ about gloom."

It would have been funnier if it weren't all true.

The stood in silence for a few moments before Alec's tired voice moved softly through the large, underground room that resembled a bunker and really, probably was, in form if not in style.

"Sometimes it's just easier to be the soldier, you know?"

Mole nodded after a moment, leaning back into his heels and folding his arms across his chest. "Yeah. I know."

* * *

A few states over, Max was dealing with her own kind of executive command meeting. Or, well, trying to. Gem was tapping her foot impatiently; she wanted to get back to Eve. Luke was still talking excitedly about the new microprocessor he'd installed in one of Logan's computers. Even Dix, techno-whiz that he was, was struggling to pay attention. Max had given up ages ago. What was there to listen to? Status report? Unchanged. New arrivals? Unchanged. Departures? Unchanged. Relationship with Seattle P.D.? Unchanged. Trannie hating hicks throwing molotovs across the chainlink? Well, they'd cleared out, but they'd probably be back next week when the Weekly World News spun up another false report on the Transgenic Threat.

Her eyes went distant. She really needed to get a hold of Sketchy. Try and straighten him out, see if he couldn't get his boss to stop printing that trash.

Really, she needed to stop having these meetings altogether; should just start telling people not to bother unless they _did _have something new to report. She was getting tired of hearing the same old things over and over again. Well, now that almost all of the X-4, X-5's, and X-6's were gone, at least she was no longer hearing that they were _always_ low on food, low on cash, low on ammunition, housing, water, and milk… Didn't have enough of a populace for any of those to be a factor anymore. Cut to the skeletal crew that she had now, she was actually managing to maintain livable conditions. Not ideal conditions, but livable.

She snapped back to attention to realize that Luke had paused to take a breath. She jumped on the opportunity. "Anyone else?" She sat up straight in her rickety old swivel chair. Luke opened his mouth, but Max beat him to it. "No? Good. Meeting adjourned."

Luke seemed a little disappointed, but everyone else fairly bolted out of the small meeting room on; everyone had somewhere else they'd rather be. Max glanced over her shoulder and caught Gem's eyes, just as the redhead was about to slip out the door. The woman offered Max a small smile of support, before shutting the door gently behind her.

Max had asked her once, months ago, why she'd stayed when almost everyone else she knew, including her adopted kid brother Dalton, had left.

"It sucks," Gem admitted. The honesty had hurt Max a little bit, but she'd clamped her mouth shut and made herself listen. "I really did want to go. Especially once Dalton got it in his head to leave… you know how he worships Alec… But with Eve? I didn't know where they were going or what they were planning. How could I carry my daughter off into the unknown? At least here, I can stick to what's safe."

Stick to what's safe. Wasn't that usually kind of an insult? Max had left it at that, because she didn't want to know if Gem had known beforehand that Alec was leading a revolt against her. And she must have, because Max had asked who the hell 'Levi' was and she got an unexpected answer, if not all the details. To be completely honest, Max didn't want to know if _any_ of those left behind had known what was going down; didn't know if she could remain friends with people who didn't have the decency to give her a heads up. Really, Joshua was the only one she was certain that hadn't known… she could tell from his mournful howls the night Alec had left, almost a year ago. Alec must have known that Joshua would tell Max, would _choose_Max, would do everything in his power to protect her and keep their 'family', his words, not hers, together... After all, he'd always chosen Max in the beginning, why would it be any different two years later?

Still, remembering how she'd had to shove aside her own hatred while frantically trying to soothe her large friend… Sometimes Max didn't know which made her hate Alec more; the fact that he'd stabbed her in the back, or that he'd never even given Joshua a chance… Joshua had loved him like a brother…

Max snarled and pushed away from the table, standing so quickly that the old chair flew backwards and flipped to its back. She turned to look at the decrepit old thing, watched one wheel still spinning crazily. What the fuck did it matter? Her boot lashed out, slammed into the chair, and it went sliding across the floor and crashed against the wall, next to the door. Joshua was here with her, where he belonged, and Alec… Alec could go to hell.

Amber flared across her vision. A flash of a dark night danced through her mind; Alec staring at her with burning eyes, defeated eyes, like he didn't know what else to do, but he had to do something, and he took one full step, his hands buried in her hair, and-

Max's eyes squeezed shut, her hand squeezed into a fist, and she willed the electric memory away. When she opened her eyes, her face was grim. If she saw him again, she'd-

"Everything okay?"

Her eyes snapped towards the door and connected with concerned blue. Logan was there in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, and from the question on his face, he must have been standing there long enough to see her freak out on the desk chair.

"Long day," She muttered in response, and left it at that.

"Sure," He wasn't buying, but her face remained impassive and she wouldn't sell anything else, so he had no choice but to let it go. He came in gently, shut the door softly, and dropped a folder on the careworn tabletop. She used it as an excuse to change the subject.

"What's this?" She asked, picking the thing up, starting to leaf through it before Logan even opened his mouth. It wasn't an Eyes Only case, as she'd thought, it was a dossier on-

"Miss Browning, newest liaison to Washington D.C." He leaned over her shoulder. "I've been working on it the last couple of days with Dix's help. I think it's safe to say that I was right and she is definitely one of the familiars that came across the fence last week."

Max frowned, looking at a picture of the dark-haired woman in her officious business suit, smiling pleasantly next to the mayor of Seattle. Yup. It was definitely her alright, even if she did look slightly different when her face wasn't twisted with hate. Max dropped the dossier back on the table. "Why would she be stupid enough to try and lead a team of Familiar's into T.C.? She had to have known there was a good chance we'd get a good look at her face."

"Arrogance?" Logan shrugged. "Maybe it was the Cult, spitting in our eye. Or maybe they didn't think we'd catch the team before they hit their target."

Max scowled. "It would have been nice to know what they were even after."

"Maybe nothing," Logan shrugged again. "Maybe they were just trying to rile us up; poke at us through the bars of our cage."

"This isn't a cage," Max snapped back, suddenly moody. "This is our home."

Logan eyed her a little strangely. "It's just a saying, Max." When she didn't say anything, he shook his head. He gentled his tone, and his hand glanced across her shoulder, pushing away a long strand of dark hair. "Hey you,"

It startled her; forced her to look at him.

He searched her surprised gaze. "Only one more week."

Max blinked. One more week?

Oh. Right.

"Course," Logan continued with a small smile. "We could just do like I've been saying and elope. Head out of the city for a few days, catch some fresh air. Get it taken care of nice and quiet like."

Max controlled her expression.

Elope?

Pass.

"You know Josh would never forgive us," Max pointed out. "He's all set to give me away." No matter that he'd probably only be giving her away before a few dozen people and a couple of her closest friends, snuck in from the other side of the gates. Somehow, getting married in a simple white day dress, in the heart of the toxic confines of T.C., in the middle of a war… somehow, that scenario had never come in to her fairy tale dreams of yesteryear. Guess life never really give us what we expect… or want. Still, it may not be what she'd planned, maybe it wasn't the Disney version, but it was still better than eloping. Running away, plain clothes, no witnesses; I mean, where's the romance in that?

For one fleeting moment, Max wished she were 18 again. That all she had to think of was her n' Logan, busting up drug rings, tip-toeing around the romantic ideal of a relationship without actually giving in to the mundane reality. Things had been so much simpler back then. All she'd wanted was a happy ending.

She glanced down at the diamond ring on her finger.

She'd gotten what she'd wanted. Right?

Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrongwrongwrong.

"What are you _doing_ here?"

He'd snuck in on her. _Again_. And just like last time, she wasn't prepared to face him, didn't know how to handle him. She needed more time; she was still too angry. And even worse, the memory of his kiss still left her on fire, and she didn't know if she could do this without craving the burn.

She'd come home from her short, yet exhausting, conversation with Logan, and it'd been him, Alec the betrayer, sitting in her open window, one boot propped up on the sill, waiting for her. He ignored her angry demand, leaning into the window frame and gazing around the small place.

"Nice digs," He glanced around. "Kinda small. And only one toothbrush in the bathroom?" Alec tsked, shaking his head sadly. "Who's got the bad oral hygiene, you or Logan? Hopefully Logan. Otherwise I'm gonna have to invest in some mouthwash."

She ignored the mouthwash statement, because she wasn't really sure how to respond to it. She stuck with the easiest response and said with a scowl, "Logan doesn't live here. He's still living at Sandeman's." She shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it across the couch.

Alec seemed surprised. "Why?" He thought for sure that they'd have shacked up as soon as she'd gotten her magical, fairy tale ring. As soon as he was gone.

Max really didn't want to say. She didn't want to tell Alec that Logan wasn't living with her because the man could get more stuff done on the other side of the fence. He needed to be able to come and go as he pleased. He wasn't one of the animals in the zoo, he was just one of the caretakers.

Also, he'd given in to the societal demand of money; he couldn't keep Eyes Only running on a wing and a prayer. Especially once Max's own funds started decreasing, when she couldn't afford to spot him a few thousand here and there anymore.

But Alec was not part of her life, and he didn't need to know any of that.

"_Why_?" Max threw back. "That's none of your business."

"Fine," He shrugged. "I'll find out on my own, then." He stood, stretching.

What, was he keeping tabs on her? The idea was as annoying as it was outrageous. "What are you _doing_ here, Alec?"

Her exasperated demand made him pause, mid-stretch, and glance at her in surprise. "Me? I'm here on business."

She came around the couch. The anger, being so near him again, well… now that the surprise had worn off, it was building like a slow fire, something familiar and warm. Maybe it wasn't actually anger, at all. Or maybe it was, and somehow, somewhere, she'd gotten it all twisted and she wasn't able to separate the hate from the desire.

"What kind of business?" She ripped off dark driving gloves; gloves she no long needed but couldn't seem to break the habit of wearing. Alec watched her toss them away with dark, amused eyes.

"_What kind of business_?" Alec mocked, mimicking her earlier tone. "That's none of your business."

They stared at each other from across the living room. There were so many things she could ask, could demand. What was he doing here? Where had he been? When would he give her an explanation? Maybe explanations were only for friends, and since they weren't even that, not any longer, maybe she shouldn't want one. Maybe she should just hate him. To hate him would be the easiest, and safest, route.

When Max's voice came again, it was harsh, and it killed Alec's sarcastic smile. "I know who Levi is. Or I guess I should say, _was_."

Alec took sauntering steps towards her, and forced his smile back onto his face, even if it was a trifle bitter. "Do you, now? Someone fill you in on all the gory details, Maxie?"

"Don't call me that," She snapped back, refusing to budge from her spot on the tan carpet. "And yeah, I heard enough." She glared at him and practically spat, "Was it worth it?"

"Was what worth it, Max?" Alec cajoled. "Was it worth breaking that fucker's neck? You have no _idea_ how worth it it was."

Max could have taken two steps forward and decked him in the face. Instead, she snarled, "What, it wasn't enough to just betray me? You had to kill someone to do it, too?" And before Alec could shoot back a response, Max took him in, all of him, and scowled. "What the _hell_ are you wearing?"

"Clothes," He threw back. One more step and he'd be before her, too close to her.

"Looks more like a uniform," She finally managed to take a step back, eyeballing his dark t-shirt, black boots, green B.D.U. bottoms.

"I was in a hurry. Didn't have time to change." He shrugged. Another step. Max started to get worried.

"Don't you touch me," She warned.

"What are you going to do, Maxie?" Alec smiled slowly. "Push me off a building? Slam a door into my face?"

No, but she did throw a punch at him, and she hated how it felt like a last ditch effort. She hated that it'd been six months since they'd last fought, but he knew her moves well enough to grab her wrist and pull her in tight. She hated that it'd been a year since Alec had killed another transgenic and led a mutiny against her, but she was unable to resist when he lowered his lips towards hers. She hated that he stopped scant millimeters from her mouth, and that his breath was warm and smelled vaguely of mint. She hated that he'd paused, that he wasn't kissing her despite the fire in her belly, her nails in his back, and every nerve-ending in her body screaming in desire.

His words were a murmur that washed across her lips. "Don't marry Logan."

Max blinked. And ripped away. "_What_?"

He just stared at her, his face bland once more. Maybe he hadn't meant to say it. But he had said it, and she couldn't ignore it.

"What do you mean, _don't marry Logan_?" And in a small part of her wondered how he'd known… She scowled up at him, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "How did you even know I _was _marrying Logan?"

Alec rolled his eyes and played it off. "You guys have been engaged for what, a year? You're bound to tie the knot _eventually_. You can't delay it forever, Max."

"Who says I'm the one delaying it?" She lied. "And besides, when I _do_ marry Logan, I don't see how it'll be any of your business." She must have accepted his statement, and he relaxed for the moment. Seems like Dix was safe from Max's wrath for a little bit longer.

"Just trying to look out for you, Maxie." Alec shrugged, walking past her. He paused, looking at her over one shoulder as his hand connected with her front door's worn handle. "You think your problems are solved because you cured the virus?" He shook his head. "If you marry Logan, your problems are just beginning. We don't belong with them, Max."

"Blah, blah, woof, woof." She rolled her eyes. "I've heard your song and dance before."

"I'm serious," He shrugged. "It's not just about danger. We really don't belong with them."

"Well, I guess you should be happy that you have Casey to go home to, then," Max scowled back, pretending like she actually had an idea what Alec and Casey's relationship might be, pretending like she wasn't trying to draw an answer out of him. Gem might have known who Levi was, but she'd been in complete darkness when Max had asked about the platinum blonde that had shadowed Alec out of T.C.. Alec eyed her for a moment, opened his mouth, as if he might say something, might correct her, but finally he just shrugged, pulled open the door, and left her small apartment.

She should have shouted something at his back. She should have thrown something at him and told him never to return. Maybe if she had, she wouldn't have had to avoid Logan for two days. Maybe then the guilt, that she'd seen Alec again, that she'd wanted to repeat that one-time mistake of a kiss, wouldn't have eaten her alive. Maybe Logan wouldn't have hunted her down, cornered her, misjudged the reason for her guilt and avoidance, and demanded to know why Cynthia Browning, newly appointed government liaison, had been found dead in her studio apartment. And maybe, just maybe, if she'd been a little more hateful, Alec wouldn't have come back, wouldn't have been waiting for her in the middle of her living room in a dark t-shirt, and dark blue jeans, and looking so much like _her_ Alec that she was lost from the beginning.

And maybe if he hadn't come back, she'd have been saved from this… whatever this was. Blessing. Curse. Something in-between.

"I'm sorry," She said in a broken voice, her hands white-knuckled around the simple bouquet. "I can't do this."

She escaped, and Logan chased after her, following her away from the small gathering in the center of Command, staring at them with wide-eyes. Away from the Catholic priest that had owed Max a large favor. Away from the vows, and the guilt, and the sham, and into the small office off to the side.

"I don't understand," Logan's voice hounded her back.

She turned to face him and the guilt consumed her and it came up, rushed out, before she could control it.

"I slept with Alec."

When had she lost the ability to lie?

_"Don't you lie to me! That's why you came here, you came here to kill that woman!" _

_It'd been so stupid to think that maybe, just maybe, he'd just been here to see her. _

_He'd glared at her, his cheek red from the brute force of her open palm. "I'm running a _war_, Max. I came to Seattle to do what's necessary." _

Logan went pale. He was so shocked that he barely managed a, "_What_? When?!"

She looked away. The bouquet was still held tightly in clammy hands. "Last week, after you accused me of having a hand in Browning's death."

_"What, just like killing Levi was necessary? How did you even know what she was?" Max had shouted. "Who do you have working for you in my goddamn command?!"_

_"Maybe I have my own sources." He'd scowled back, frighteningly calm. "Did you ever consider that?"_

"It was him… _He_ killed her." Logan shook his head. Maybe, just for a moment, he remembered the way he'd looked at her, the way he'd accused her… _Funny how I told you she's a Familiar, and now she's dead_… but he didn't dwell on it too long; he shifted the blame back to Max immediately. His eyes swung to her face, his accusing voice filling the small room. "Max, why didn't you tell me he was here?"

Because she hadn't known how. Didn't know how to break it to Logan that she'd seen Alec again without also admitting that some dark part of her had still wanted him desperately. And then Alec had come back a second time in that same week, and she couldn't admit it to Logan without also admitting that she'd sliced fire across his back, her cries harsh and ragged in the small space of her living room.

Logan shook his head again, like he was trying to shake it all away; maybe he was just trying to clear his head, trying to understand.

"He killed her," Logan repeated, like he was stuck, when really, that wasn't even the most important issue right now.

_"We can't just kill whoever we want, Alec!" _

_"Max, they're _insane_! They want you _dead_. They want _all_ of us dead! When are you going to finally _see_ that? Why am I the one that always has to-" _

Logan glanced back up at her, struggling to get back on track. He finally managed to ask the most important question.

"_Why_, Max?"

Why? Why, why, why? Max had been asking herself that very thing for almost a week.

_She's still not sure what started it; what prompted her to throw that first punch. Maybe it was just a year's worth of pent-up aggression and hatred. Maybe it was six months' worth of want and desire. Of something dark and animal, something hot and hungry, something that needed to feel him once more. That needed to _hurt_ him once more. Maybe it's because Logan had looked at her with accusing eyes and had spoken to her in that wary voice, like he didn't know her, or what she was capable of; like she was the tiger that had been let out of the cage. Maybe it's because a dark part of her had told her it would be for the best if she took care of Browning herself, only Alec had gotten there first._

_Maybe it's just because Alec had been waiting for her, because he'd come back for her before he'd left. Maybe it was because he'd looked like her Alec, and it made her angry, because he wasn't her Alec, not anymore. _

_There was fighting, and there were plenty more punches thrown, and the first hint that it was getting out of hand didn't come until she was underneath him, squirming on tan carpeting, arching her neck into his lips, and his hand was between their bodies, lowering the fly of his jeans. _

The memory was too much, and Max colored, glancing away from Logan. Why had she slept with Alec? She couldn't come up with an answer.

"I'm… not sure."

His laughed was harsh and incredulous. "You're not sure-"

Max knew she deserved his anger, but that didn't make it easy to bear. "I'm sorry," She repeated.

Logan wouldn't give in and his voice was bitter and cutting. "Well maybe sorry isn't good enough."

He didn't talk to her for almost two weeks. He'd stormed out of the office, past the wary spectators, past the waiting priest. Max had stayed in the office, unable to come out and face the questioning eyes. Joshua had rapped on the door, Cindy's concerned voice right behind him, but not even that would make her stand from her spot next to the window, staring blankly across the room, one hand resting lightly on top of the discarded flowers at her side.

Funny that she wasn't able to cry.

Then Logan told her that he'd been willing to forgive her the first time he'd thought she'd slept with Alec; so long as it never happened again, he could forgive her once more. After all, he said bitterly, he loved her. But Max had heard it in his voice, she'd seen it in his eyes; he'd forgive, but he'd never forget. There'd always be that black stain on her skin, that wariness behind his gaze. She'd swallowed and she hadn't known what to say. Logan had told her to just think about it.

What was there to think about? Logan was everything that she'd thought she'd wanted. He was the Disney ending, or at least he had been when she'd been eighteen. But if Logan was the perfect prince, then Alec was the venomous villain; he was everything that she wasn't supposed to want and everything that she craved. Alec was like a dark addiction, and she couldn't shake his toxin. She knew, because Alec showed up with a side-arm and a grim smile, told her he'd heard the wedding was off, and at least this time they made it to the bed.

They didn't touch afterwards. Max rolled to her side, away from him, staring blankly at the clock on her nightstand. He stared at the ceiling, arms underneath his head. The line between her anger and her desire for him was so blurred, she wasn't sure what she felt for him anymore. But somewhere between this time and the last, between Logan's harsh accusation, _did you kill that woman_, and Logan's superior forgiveness, _just think about it_, somewhere she'd lost her ability to hate him. Really, to be honest, she still didn't even really know him, so how could she hate him.

Maybe that was just a hollow excuse, a way for her to feel better about what she'd done, but did it matter, because his black boots were still at the end of her bed the next morning, and she liked it that way. He'd looked at her for a long moment before pulling his black shirt over his head, before he left without a word, and she liked that too. There was something freeing about their dark relationship-that-wasn't. Maybe she'd always been fooling herself when she'd said she wanted Disney, or maybe she didn't really know herself, much less what she really wanted; maybe this, this something simple, this something complicated, maybe this is just what she needed right now.

"This has gotta stop, man." Mole was watching him warily. "You can't drive across state lines every time you feel the need for a booty call."

Alec was crouched, inspecting the work on the wall, pretending to pay little attention to his second. "Who says I even went to see Max? Much less slept with her?"

"You look both self-satisfied and ready to rip something apart; who else could you have gone to see, and what else could you have possibly done?"

Alec paused in his perusal, glancing up at the transhuman. Whatever he saw on the other man's face, absolute knowing, maybe, or a '_you're not as sneaky as you think you are_,' it made him give in. "Just be glad I didn't invite her back for a sleepover," Alec snarked, standing slowly and dusting off his hands.

"Maybe you should have," Mole shrugged. "She's gonna figure it out eventually, and when she does, you know she's going to descend on this place like a rabid junkie that just found a coke processing plant."

"She won't if she's smart."

"Uhhh… you do realize this is _Max_ we're talking about, right?"

Alec chuckled and shook his head. "She can't stay clueless forever. She's always been a little slow on the uptake, but usually she catches up in the end."

"Uhhh… you do realize this is _Max_ we're-"

"Seriously, Mole. I got this."

"Famous last words," Mole shook his head, but he left it at that. Wasn't his life. So long as it didn't get in the way of Command, Alec could do whatever the hell he wanted in his off-hours; including sleep with his greatest enemy. And not once, in the next six months, did it ever get in the way of Command, so what did he care? Casey was another story entirely, of course, but Mole didn't much care about her opinion, either. He didn't like the way she always tried to have her clutching little fingers in Alec's business. And he told her so, when she demanded to know if Alec had been leaving Wyoming to go to Washington. He told her to ask Alec himself, because he didn't have time for her drama. And it was so worth Alec's eventual annoyance, because the Valkyrie of Ice had stomped off, her nose in the air, and Mole couldn't shake the amusement the rest of the week.

Alec didn't always appreciate Mole's wry sense of humor. Especially when he came home, after another extremely satisfying, extremely confusing, weekend, and found Casey leaning against the wall next to the door, just on the inside of his office. Casey was his friend, he'd been looking out for her since they were kids, but he didn't particularly want to share the details of his private life with her, especially when it came to Max. Max had always been a strange, nebulous kind of entity, floating in and out of his reality, and parts of him wanted to keep her all to himself. Plus, he was a little worn out, and he didn't really feel like dealing with this right now. He glanced at Casey out of the corner of his eyes, but it didn't slow his walk towards his desk. Not even when he reached the thing, and Casey's bland voice reached his ears.

"I know you're sleeping with her."

Alec paused, just for a moment, before shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it across the desk. He turned to her, leaning against the desk's hard edge, his arms folding across his chest as he waited for her to continue.

"You can't seriously expect me to believe that you've had pressing business in Seattle every other weekend for the past six months," She finished blandly.

Alec just continued to stare at her, but his stare, the stare of a soldier, she'd been around it for years and it hardly unnerved her, not the same way that it unnerved Max. She wouldn't back down, so finally he just shrugged. "And? So what if I am? There some rule somewhere that says I can't have a lady friend?"

"Max is no lady," Casey threw back, "and she sure as hell isn't your friend,"

This is why he hadn't wanted to deal with this. Sometimes Casey acted as if she was the only woman, really, the only _person_, that he was allowed to associate with for any long period of time. Sure, she was okay with any number of Alec's casual flings, but start throwing the 'friend' word around and she got wound tighter than a republican at a Green Peace meeting. "You don't even know her," Alec frowned in response.

"Do you?" Casey challenged. "This time last year, didn't she want to knife you in the face?"

This time last year, he'd pressed a kiss against her lips on the top of the Space Needle and she'd answered his consuming, ravaging desire with her own... at least until she'd come back to herself and remembered what they were supposed to feel and opened a door into his forehead.

"Look," He sighed, turning back to his desk. "I get that our relationship is a little unconventional-"

"Unconventional?!" Casey exploded, pushing away from the wall, her golden eyes flashing. "She hates your guts! And last time I checked, you hated hers right back!"

Alec just stared at his desk. Maybe that had been true at one point… Actually, that last part had probably never been true. Angry, maybe, but Alec had never really had it in him to hate Max back… But lately, where Max was concerned… Sometime, somewhere, somehow… it'd all started changing.

_He was waiting for her when she got in. She looked at him in curiosity, her head cocking to the side, taking in his small smirk and his hazel, hungry eyes. Before she could say anything, he lunged forward, swept her up, carried her into the bedroom, and tossed her on the bed. _

_And she couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled out. Her eyes widened, she pressed her lips together, looked away, and promptly tried to pretend it hadn't happened. _

_Alec had paused, still hovering over her, his hand outstretched, halfway to her jeans._

_"Did you… Did you just laugh at me?" _

_"No," She lied, and tried to make her eyes annoyed. She failed. The corner of her mouth quirked and she forced it back into something more neutral and less telling. _

_"You are laughing at me!" He straightened, glaring down at her. _

_"What?" She sat up, shrugging, twisting long hair over her shoulder. "It's not my fault your caveman theatrics amused me." _

_His eyes narrowed, his lips twisted. "Caveman, huh?" _

_She shrugged again. _

_His smirk was wicked. "Oh, you are so paying for that." _

_She shrieked as he pounced._

And afterwards, she'd looked at him a little strangely, her head pillowed on top of his arm. He couldn't place the expression; it was one he'd never seen before.

_"What?"_

But whatever it was, it passed, her face went cloudy and she looked away. "It's nothing."

Sometimes it was still angry. Occasionally it was amusing. Usually it was nothing short of amazing. He told himself it was always just sex, so what did it matter if it never was tender? And he tried to pretend that he didn't know that one wrong misstep and it'd all come tumbling down once more. He always had to be careful what he said, careful what he brought up; really he tried to keep talking to a minimum to avoid the possibility of her remembering that she was supposed to despise him. He didn't want it to go back to the way it was before, he liked that she looked at him with more than loathing. He liked when her breath came faster, and her eyes went hooded, when she arched upwards, stopped avoiding his kiss, and just gave all of herself over to him… and only to him. More than anything else, sometimes Alec loved that he didn't have to share her with Logan.

But it all had to tumble sometime. And for Max, it came sooner than for Alec.

She was ravenous, but food held no interest for her; not when she was puking it up after every meal and the acid reflux was like fire. She was moody and tired and Gem was looking at her with sympathetic eyes and Joshua's nose kept twitching, like he knew too. The only one that pretended obliviousness was Logan. And only because he was on a mission.

"They've been hiding under our noses all this time." Logan was frowning down at her as she went through the folder with cold, clammy hands and a heart that was freezing. His eyes narrowed. "I take it that Alec never mentioned that detail to you."

"How…" She wanted to ask, how did you know that sometimes I come home and Alec is waiting? What did it matter though, because somehow, someway, everyone seemed to know. Instead she shook her head and dropped the folder back to the table. "How did you even find them?"

"Someone was bound to notice the activity eventually. I mean, the place was supposed to have been burned out. Really, he's just lucky that the Familiars never thought to come snooping around." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, tried to ignore the way her brow furrowed and her hand glanced across her flat stomach.

Max stared blankly past him. He willed her to look at him; to remember that Alec was the one that had taken leadership from her, that had carted over half of the transgenics back into the Wyoming wilderness. That Alec was the one that was attempting to rebuild Manticore.

Max didn't look at him, but that didn't mean that she wasn't very rightfully angry. She hadn't busted everyone out of Manticore just so they could choose to go back! And given her anger, and she finally knew where to find him, how could she possibly wait another two weeks until he came to see her again? She needed answers now. And by God, she was going to get them.

She parked her recognizable bike far back in the treeline and walked the rest of the way to the gate; she didn't recognize the guard. The guard recognized her, or at least her face, because he started in wariness, and his M-16 lifted just a hair. It was almost like the old days.

A VA hospital, my ass. What kind of hospital needed armed guards?

"Designation?"

She didn't even slow down. "453."

The X-4 just frowned. "Let's see a barcode, honey."

She abruptly spun, lifting her hair, showing the expanse of clear skin at the nape of her neck. She turned again, smiling sweetly, sarcastically. "I've got a husband, a kid, and a house in Canada. I don't exactly walk around with lines on the back of my neck."

It was a conundrum; she could see the thought processes rolling across the guard's face. Somehow she doubted that this was a scenario he had been prepped for.

"Look," she sighed. "I'm just here to see 494. We met once, in Seattle, a few years ago, and I need his help with something."

"With what?" The guard asked in suspicion.

"That's for him to know, not you," Max replied in boredom. He continued to eye her for a few moments before stepping into a small building near the gate, undoubtedly to call her in on the radio. He came back after only a few minutes to unlock the gate and gesture her in with the muzzle of his semi-automatic.

She wasn't even a few more steps inside when a X-6 materialized by her side.

"Max?"

His unblinking eyes, and his well-kept clothing, his groomed hair, and the way he couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. Dalton; she barely recognized him, she'd never seen him so put together before. Still, she stared blankly, uncomprehending, and after a moment he shook it away, and straightened. He almost looked… disappointed. Had he missed her? Or had he wanted news on Gem and on Eve? Didn't matter, because he nodded at her.

"453? Alec's in a meeting. I was told to show you to a briefing room while you wait."

Well, that was fast. He spun and started trotting quickly across the training yard. Max followed at a leisurely pace, doing her best not to keep her eyes focused on the back of his head instead of gawking at her surroundings. The place looked remarkably unchanged; there were transgenics sparring and working out together, groups scattered all across the yard. It seemed strange with none of the trainers' voices in the background, raised in anger. Some of the buildings still had smoke stains, and not all of the windows that had been blown out had been replaced, but overall, it seemed like many of the effects of the fire had already been dealt with.

Dalton was waiting impatiently for her by a door and he just rolled his eyes when she didn't pick up the pace. Good to know he hadn't changed too much.

He led her down a long hallway, to another door, and then down a flight of stairs, into the cooler underground. Max was surprised, thinking that by 'briefing room,' he'd meant one of the old second story class rooms. Guess not. Manticore leadership had been awfully fond of the basement for some reason; not the side with PsyOps and the transhumans, naturally. They had their own little underground enclave, complete with large, bunker-like offices and briefing rooms; Max only knew because she'd been marched through it on her way to Renfro's little slice of hell many a time. She doubted that most of the other transgenics had even known this area'd existed until they'd returned with Alec.

Dalton went down a long corridor and glanced at her before pushing open a door. He paused, looking into the room, and the person already waiting in one chair. After a moment, he just nodded at Casey and gestured Max in, closing the door behind her.

They were alone.

"453?"

Max kept her face impassive.

Casey just rolled her eyes, lifting her feet onto the oblong briefing table, settling back into a plush leather chair and folding her arms across her chest. Unlike the labs and the barracks, and everything else, this 'managerial' haven must have been untouched by the blast that had killed so many transgenics. Figures the uppers would put a safety net in place for their own skins in case someone actually did try to cauterize the site.

"You don't fool me, you know."

That caught her attention; she stopped scanning the room to look at the blonde once more.

Casey nodded. "Max."

She didn't even bat an eyelash. "It's Sam, actually."

"Please," Casey dropped her feet abruptly, sitting back up. "why would 453 trek all the way from Vancouver just to chat with Alec? I knew it was you as soon as they made the radio call."

Max just stared blankly at the other woman. Then she shrugged, giving in. What did it matter if prissy knew who she was?

"I take it Alec knows it's me, then."

"Of course he does," Casey scoffed.

"And what, he sent you to run interference?" Max demanded, stepping more fully into the room.

Casey shrugged noncommittally, and Max didn't know what to make of it, so she just glared at the woman.

They stayed like that for a minute, Max glaring, Casey staring blandly back, until the blonde couldn't contain it anymore.

"He doesn't love you, you know."

Max started out of her glare, and frowned in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Alec," Casey shrugged. "He doesn't love you."

Max just arched one cool eyebrow. "I'm sorry, is that supposed to hurt my feelings?"

"Feelings? See, that's the problem with sex." Casey ignored her, continuing, "Sex is always messy. People's emotions get jumbled up. They start 'feeling' things that aren't really there."

"What is this?" Max asked in dark amusement. "Now you tryin' to tell me that we're confused and that Alec loves me or that I think I love Alec? News flash, he led a revolt against me. We're not exactly best friends. So make up your mind and spit out whatever it is you're trying to say." Max didn't even want to know how Casey had known that she was sleeping with Alec. Had he told her? Did he talk about Max to this platinum enigma? Max _hated _not knowing who the hell this girl was.

"I'm just warning you to be careful of that line that you two are tiptoeing," Casey shrugged. "You never know when things will start to get," Her golden eyes flicked up and down across Max's frame, her perfect nose wrinkled. "_Messy_."

So maybe she'd didn't know her, but Max was finding it ridiculously easy to dislike her. She kept her voice bland, though. "Thanks for the tip."

"You want another one?" Casey's face hardened and she stood from her chair. "Sex, to Alec, is never messy. Sex, to him, is always just sex. Nothing else."

"Oh, I get why Alec sent you to stall me, now." Max folded her arms across her chest, her face bland. "He wanted you to talk me to death."

"Maybe he wanted me to give you a message," Casey stalked up to Max, her eyes darkening.

Ah, now little girl wanted to play? Puh-lease; Max had dealt with Ordinaries that were better at cattiness then this girl. She rolled her eyes. "What, that besides the feline parts in X-5 DNA, there's a healthy heaping of 'bitch' as well?"

Casey's eyes flashed, her face twisted in hate. "Better to be Alec's bitch than just another one of his whores."

Max's hand cracked against the girl's pale cheek. The room echoed with the sound of the slap for a long moment, and then Max's voice, deceptively light, filled the silence. "That was just a warning shot. Call me a whore again, and we'll see what kind of damage I can really do."

Casey's hand came up to press against her high, reddening cheekbone lightly; she looked a little shocked. "You… you _hit_ me."

"Slapped, actually." She kept her voice light. Max refused to give this bitch the satisfaction of seeing her angry. "If you want me to really hit you, that can be arranged, too."

Casey's hand dropped back down, her eyes narrowed. "You can play the tough girl all you want. It won't change the facts; you're nothing to him, nothing more than a fuck."

"Well aren't you Miss Positivity."

Max's continuance of not caring was obviously frustrating the taller woman. "Don't you get it? You're just a conquest! The girl that he couldn't have; he's going to get tired of you and-"

"Seriously," Max interrupted. "When are you going to get interesting?"

Casey's attractive face... not quite as attractive when it was ice-cold. She drew herself up, and glared down at Max. "Fine, act like you don't care. I know better, even if you won't admit it. Nothing will change the fact that Alec didn't just leave Seattle without an explanation and take all the transgenics with him." Max's eyes narrowed in wariness. A cruel light lit within golden eyes as Casey continued. " Alec left without an explanation and he took me with him. He didn't choose you, Max. He chose _me_."

Max didn't know the details. She had no idea what this girl's relationship to Alec was. But even so, the statement… it hurt a little bit. She hadn't been worth an explanation, had she? Isn't that what had always bothered her most about the whole damn thing? God, what was she even doing here? Max blinked, and was faced with the realization that she didn't want to spend even one more second breathing the same air as this cow.

"When you see Alec," Max said blandly, "tell him he knocked up his whore."

She watched as everything within Casey imploded, as the girl fell still in shock. Max whirled on her heel, and stomped out of the room. The anger, so powerful, was finally allowed free rein, and the door slammed, loud and satisfying, behind her.

Alec did his best to not trot too quickly down the long hallway. His steps faltered and failed, however, when he saw Max storming out of the briefing room.

"Max?"

She turned to him, her eyes red and glaring, before spinning and stalking off down the hallway.

"Max!"

She didn't know how he crossed the distance so quickly, just knew that his fingers curled over her shoulder, he spun her and stepped in, her back hit the wall, and she was trapped by him. "Let go of me," She hissed up at him.

"No." He replied blandly. His eyes slid across her cherished, hated, familiar face. "You seem angry."

She shoved him away. "You think?!" He eyeballed her for a moment before taking another step back, leaning into the opposite wall. When his voice came again, it was more tired than anything else.

"Alright. I'll bite. Why are you angry? And what are you doing here?"

Max stared at him for a moment, like, _are you serious_?! She shook it away, scowling at him. Why was she angry? Because he had sicced his pitbull girlfriend, or whatever the hell Casey was, on her. And on top of that, he was running a fucking war against Familiars out of Manticore's old buildings! Not that she was gonna admit to that first part, though.

"Why do you think? Why wouldn't I come here? You've recreated fucking _Manticore_, Alec!"

"No, I haven't." His voice was dark, defensive. Of course he was defensive; sometimes even he was worried that he was crossing some kind of invisible line. He struggled with that every damn day.

"You're running military ops out of Gillete, Wyoming." She threw back scathingly. "Excuse me if I fail to see the difference."

His eyes narrowed, he refused to budge from his spot by the wall, and he gave her all the excuses that he stayed up at nights telling himself. "I'm not forcing people to stay here, Max. There's no bars on the windows, no machine guns pointing _inwards_. I saw empty buildings that transgenics were familiar with, comfortable with, that no one has looked at in years, and I capitalized on the opportunity."

She was still a little shell-shocked, amazed that he could even attempt to defend himself. "Are you _stupid_? Of course they're comfortable here! This was their prison for most of their lives!"

He frowned, and opened his mouth-

But she continued angrily. "You think you helped them by leading them out of Seattle? All you've done, at the end of the day, is exchanged their old cage for an even older one."

He scowled. "This is what they chose, Max. This is what they choose, everyday."

"Of course!" She shouted back. "That's because they're not the wild tigers, Alec!" He started in surprise. Maybe part of him was just shocked she even remembered him talking about that, over a year ago. She tried to calm her voice; it was strained, but at least she wasn't shouting anymore. "They're not the wild tigers. They're the ones that were born in captivity, the ones that don't know any better."

He stared at her in surprise. She shook her head and muttered, "And you call Terminal City 'the Zoo.'"

His face descended into stone, his voice harsh and biting. "So, you've got it all figured out then, huh? Well bully for you. You came all this way just to throw that at me?"

She scowled at his cutting tone, his cold eyes. This, this was the man that was to be the father of her child? "Maybe," She raged, and remembering Casey's gloating stare, her vile tongue, added, "Why don't you ask your other whore why I'm here?"

"My other-?" Alec blinked in confusion, straightening. Before his eyes narrowed in cold anger. "You mean Casey?"

"That is the girl you sent to stall me, right?"

Sent to stall-? He dismissed it. He seemed oblivious to her blasé tone, took two large steps towards her, and towered over her. "What is this? Your attempt at jealousy, Max?" He leaned in, his angry breaths, clenched teeth, close to her face. "Don't you _ever_ call her that again. Casey and I go way back; much farther than you and I do."

Max ducked away from him, backing away. "So I heard. That's why you chose her over me, right?"

Alec was still slightly confused, still misreading her entirely, and he stalked after her. "What, you think that whole Levi thing was just a simple case of Max versus Casey? Wake up, honey! The world doesn't revolve around you!"

Max didn't understand the Levi reference, but she didn't like his tone, and she was already angry to begin with. Especially when he was getting mad at her when all she was doing was throwing Casey's words into his face. She spun and her pace quickened. He reached for her, and maybe if he'd caught her, maybe it would have gone differently. But she slipped out of the way and she reached the door before he could reach her. It was all he could do to scowl angrily at her back. And he was still too angry, too defensive and caged and confused about the Casey thing , too surprised to be caught on his home turf, and he lashed out, shouting after her. "Why are you acting like this? You're not my girlfriend! You're just the girl I fuck."

She paused in the door way, turned and looked at him with a pale face. She blinked at him, once, twice, and that horrified face, like he'd just confirmed every terrible thought she had ever had about him, it made something within him flag. He kept his shoulders square; she was the one that needed to come correct, not him.

Finally, her face hardened.

"Don't ever come back to T.C." She prided herself on the small things; her voice didn't waver, her chin lifted with strength she didn't really feel. "I never want to see you again."

The door slammed shut behind her and he was staring blankly at the wall, part of him wondering what the hell had just happened, part of him wanting to go after, the rest of him just mad in that way that only she could get him. He scowled and spun, heading back down the hallway in the opposite direction. He reached the doorway pretty quickly and almost yanked it off its hinges.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find that Casey was still waiting for him.

"What the hell did you say to her?"

"What, me?" Casey replied in shock to his rage. "What the hell did _she_ say to _you_?"

He scowled. "Like you couldn't hear everything that just happened." What was she even doing down here?

Casey paused for a long moment, and then shrugged, looking away. "I'm sorry. I was curious; I've never spoken to her before." She looked up and shook her head. "Lemme tell you, you sure know how to pick winners."

Alec paused as well, ignoring her statement to take in the pink skin over her cheekbone. "What… Casey, did Max _hit_ you?"

Casey shrugged again. "Girl's got serious issues."

Alec almost seemed livid. "God, that is so- I just-" He paced for a moment in one direction, then again in the other. "I almost want to go after her and-"

"Why?" Casey interrupted. "So you can shout at each other some more? I think you said everything that needs to be said, Alec."

Alec stopped mid-pace, turning to frown at her. He shrugged unhappily after a moment. He almost turned and stalked out. Instead he paused again, and grudgingly asked, "Did Max… Well, you heard her. Did she tell you something to tell me?"

"What's there to say?" Casey demanded. "You heard her same as me. She never wants to see you again."

Alec's eyes sparked once more. "And that's fine by me!" He turned, stalking out of the office, and the door rattled with the force of the slam.

Casey swallowed, her fingers coming up to probe at her red cheekbone. She slumped back into a chair, her eyes closing in weariness. She'd… she'd done the right thing. And she hadn't even really lied. She couldn't tell Alec. If she told Alec… he'd choose Max. He'd choose Max for the wrong reasons. Her eyes firmed, her hand dropped back into her lap. She hoped that Max was intelligent enough to take care of the situation. If she had the baby, and Alec ever found out… Casey wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know how far Alec's loyalty would stretch.

Max made the long drive home, alone. Made her way through T.C., alone. Climbed up an old stairwell and let herself into a cold apartment, alone. Slumped in the corner by the door, slid down the wall, and buried her head in her arms. And as she did so, her beeper went off.

She hated that a part of her hoped… She angled its face to meet her eyes. Just Logan… probably calling to see if she made it back to Seattle okay. Well, she'd made it back to Seattle.

But how would it ever be okay?

She ripped the pager from her belt, throwing it across the room, and not even the simple rage of the act could keep the harsh sob from escaping her throat. It was over. It was all over. Why couldn't she have just kept hating him?


	18. Z, Part Two

Z is for Zoo

Part Two

* * *

Three months, alone with your anger and your loss, go slowly when all you have to warm you are the dying flames of a hatred you're trying your best to hang on to.

In her defense, Alec was making it pretty easy to hold on to those last vestiges. Three months. Three months and not a word. Not a 'hey, how are you,' or even a 'sorry about that whole 'knocking you up' thing.' Nothing.

The sudden hot sear of hatred was an ache that reminded her that sometimes she missed him.

God, she was so messed up.

Alec didn't always consume her thoughts. There were many days when she didn't think of him at all. Some days she felt absolutely nothing. Some days, she was so apathetic about the whole situation, she wondered if she was even capable of feeling anything anymore. It helped that she was so ridiculously pregnant, she often just didn't have the energy.

Then some days, out of nowhere, the anger and rage would spike like a knife, and she didn't know if she should hurt something, clench her fists until her palms bled, or if she should swallow all the rage and cry it all out in angry, heaving gasps until she was empty once more.

Who was she? What was she? It was like there were two of her; something dark, pacing at the edges, waiting to come out, and something tired, something all too frail and human, that observed her anger and wondered what was the point? She was getting too tired to always be so angry. To be honest, most days she tried to not think of him at all… But that's a hard thing, seeing as how she was six months pregnant, with twins no less, and he was the culprit behind it all.

Figures that she hadn't even wanted one kid, but her body had seen fit to give her two.

She paused, staring at the yellow paint drying on the walls. Joshua, covered in streaks of that same shade of yellow, paused in his exuberant rolling to stare at her in concern. Her face was calm though and after a moment he went back to his task. His eyes only flicked towards her once or twice. She just continued to stare apathetically at the wall, at a single drip of paint that was making a run for it, oozing its way towards the floor. At least for a moment. Then her face twisted and her roller smashed into the trail and spread it evenly into the rest of the paint once more.

She imagined that the wall was Alec's face. She imagined it was every wisp of emotion she had ever felt for him. The brutal, heavy rolling of paint continued until she had to bring a sleeve up to wipe harshly at the tears gathering in her eyes.

Joshua, watching her once more, just frowned, his face uncharacteristically serious.

* * *

Three months drag by when you're without the one you want.

Not that Alec would ever admit, out loud or even to himself, that she was the one he wanted. Even if Mole had started to affectionately refer to him as 'the gloomy motherfucker,' even going so far as to introduce him that way to some of the new arrivals. As for Casey? Casey was so hell-bent on acting like nothing was wrong, something obviously was. But what did it matter? Max didn't want him, and he… he… ah, who was he kidding? He didn't have it in him to be angry at her. The only thing stopping him from going back to Seattle and trying to act like nothing had ever happened, at this point, was his pride.

That and the way she'd looked at him.

He'd faced down her anger before. Her incredulity. He'd rolled his eyes at her self-pity, and he'd laughed aloud at her self-righteousness. But those were all sudden blasts of emotion, usually simple and one-dimensional, almost superficial. The way she'd looked at him that day, all drawn, silent, and pale, her eyes so deep and so dark… It had been something more complex. It had been like… like she'd finally found something, anything, worthy in him, and then him and his stupid mouth had smashed it before it'd even got a chance to be realized. Her look had been anger _and_ incredulity, self-pity _and_ self-righteousness. But it also had been vulnerability, sadness and loss, and for one small moment, Max had looked like a normal woman; one that wasn't sure what to do with herself, or why she was even there. And he'd been so hell-bent on being angry he hadn't even been able to decipher it all until a few weeks later.

And then what?

Try to go back to Seattle and sort it out, and pull his foot out of his mouth, and call her out for being a bitch that had kind of deserved it, only not really because he was the one that was supposed to keep a level head, even when she started rampaging, and his thoughts kept going in so many circles, Alec wasn't sure what to think. Just knew he couldn't be really angry at her when he was so busy being pissed off at himself.

But how could he ever go back? How could he face that again?

Yeah. So what. So he was a coward. He could admit that, if nothing else. So he didn't want to see that kind of expression again… Or worse, find out that all his stalling had separated them beyond repair and she didn't feel anything for him anymore, not even the usual hatred. Maybe that's what had really frightened him about her expression. For one short moment, she'd looked so vulnerable, her soul naked in her eyes before him… and then she'd drawn herself upright and that window had slammed shut, and Alec worried that it would never open for him again.

He'd have blamed Manticore, but that was a hard thing to do when he was so busy blaming her, and himself, and her unrealistic expectations, and his narrow-minded inability to reach for anything higher than a pessimistic reality. Maybe he blamed the universe a little bit too, but mostly, yeah, he just blamed himself.

"You thought about therapy?"

Alec frowned down at the body. He nudged it a bit, but, stubbornly, the dead Familiar refused to move, refused to give him the opportunity to unload a bullet into his fat, meaty head. He clicked the safety back on with a sigh and glanced up at the dark haired transgenic at his side, the one watching him with a little bit of wariness.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

The man schooled his features back to normal. "I said Blaze and Chicks got one holed up in a bathroom next door, but as soon as they're done-"

The pop of gunfire through the too-thin motel walls cut the man off.

He shrugged. "Nevermind. This site is clean."

And just in time too. The familiar vibration in his jacket pocket had begun again, and Alec nodded at the man, stepped over the body sprawled upon the ground, and pulled his phone out, flipping it open. The gun stayed loosely held in the other hand; you could never be too careful, Familiars were like cockroaches, they kept popping out from their little hidey holes when you least expected it.

"Go for Alec."

Mole's familiar voice seemed wary through the phone. It was usually wary these days; like Mole didn't know how to reach him and wanted to, but he didn't want to know what would finally make the other man snap either. "Where are you, man?"

"I'm in Oregon." Alec was still moving through the room, glancing at unmoving bodes. He toed an arm, pushing it over, and he eyed the Caduceus on the man's cooling forearm. Casey frowned and glanced up from her spot near the closet. She was going through the Familiars' suitcases, looking for some leads to their next big hit. It was a good thing they'd knocked out the motel clerk before taking care of his only 'guests.' It afforded them a few extra minutes. A few extra minutes to find the next group of Familiars; there'd been a sudden influx lately, small pockets popping up in the Northwest, and every time Alec found another group, it seemed they were getting closer and closer to Washington. It was almost like the Familiars were slowly converging on Seattle. He frowned. It didn't sit well with Alec, not at all.

Mole's voice was bland, pulling him back to the conversation. "Oregon, huh? Thought you were in northern Cali."

"Yeah, well, we caught a scent and followed it up here. So long as we don't find another one, we should be back in a few days." Alec glanced around the room once more before stepping through the entrance and onto the second story walkway. Mid-morning sunlight had stretched across the cracked parking lot, across the cars haphazardly parked, but had not yet reached the landing. It was autumn and he was cold. He wondered if he'd ever really felt warmth.

There was a long pause, and then the words were so deceptively light, it was like it wasn't even Mole. "Oregon… That's just below Washington, isn't it?"

Alec frowned in sudden annoyance. "What, are we playing a geography game now?"

There was a short pause; Alec could almost picture the transhuman working the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other before finally pulling it out completely to impart some kind of words of wisdom.

But Alec didn't want to hear it. "Save it. I'm not going up to Seattle." Then, in an attempt to be the man he once was, "Do you have any idea how fucking cold it is up there?"

The sounds of movement, of items being picked through, clothes tossed aside, abruptly stilled, and the silence was overwhelming. Alec could practically feel Casey's sharp eyes, like a golden knife, on the back of his neck as Mole came back at him.

"I don't care if it's thirty below zero in Seattle right now, I think you should go."

It surprised Alec, he hadn't been expecting it. It almost made him forget that Casey was eavesdropping. Almost, but not quite. The annoyance followed on the heels of the surprise fairly quickly. He stepped out of the way as Blaze and Chicks left the room next door and passed by, glancing at him as they entered the motel room he'd just left. Alec reached out and closed the door once they were through before continuing the conversation.

"Why is it suddenly so important that I go to Seattle. You've never wanted me to head up there before."

Maybe it was the distance that gave Mole the gumption. Maybe it was the phone call he had just gotten. Maybe he was just tired of Alec acting like a gloomy mother fucker and a bastard to boot. "Maybe I think you've been a damn pain these last three months, and I want you to get your prickly ass up to Seattle and fix whatever drama you got going on with the Queen B."

Alec's laugh was short and crisp. "So says Max's greatest fan."

There was an awkward pause. And then finally- "Look, I'm not sayin' I'm princess's new champion, but-"

"The answer is no. I'm not going to the fucking Zoo." Alec bit back sharply. There was silence, and he could practically hear the gears in Mole's head turning through the phone. He kept talking so that Mole couldn't fire out something that would make him go where he was too scared to be. "I'll be back in a few days. Try not to get any more bright ideas while I'm away." And then he hung up. And took a deep breath, closing his eyes, regaining control. He was not a man. He was a soldier. He didn't have time for-

The phone vibrated in his hand.

He snapped in open and fairly snarled. "Mole, I told you-"

"I don't fucking care." Mole wasn't playing nice anymore. "Joshua called me not even ten minutes ago and you need to get your ass up to Seattle right now."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Why? Familiars finally drop a bomb on the Zoo?"

"No, worse."

Alec froze, forced his heart down. "What do you mean, worse?"

There was a long pause, as if Mole was unsure of how to continue.

"Mole, tell me what the hell is going on." Stress made his voice tight. His heart refused to restart. He didn't want to ask, but he couldn't help it. "Is it Max?"

The voice that came back was dark and strangely amused. "Yeah, it's Max all right."

His breath came out in a rush. Oh God, not Max. Not her. Everything was still all screwed up. He hadn't fixed anything. How could he live if she had-

"She's pregnant, Alec."

Alec's heart was no longer frozen. It was gone completely; there was just a sucking hole in his chest where his heart should be, and he could hear the wind rushing through his ears, attempting to fill it.

Time had stopped. How long had he been standing here? He couldn't remember. Surely too long. He need to say something, anything. His voice was so weak, Mole had to strain to hear it through the phone, but he finally managed a, "How- I mean…"

Mole shrugged through the phone. "Dog-boy says she's about six months along."

Alec staggered two steps forward, reached forward and clutched at the second-story's iron railing. Six months. Six fucking months. Three months since he had seen her. Three months since she had walked away from him. Had she known? When she'd come to see him, had she known?

The look in her eyes, the window slamming shut. God, she'd known.

And she'd left without saying a word.

Mole must have been saying something, because his voice cut through the fog. "Alec? Did you hear me? I said she's-"

"I heard you," He said harshly, even though he hadn't heard a word, busy as he was struggling for his own words, for thought, for anything. "I… I gotta go." He flipped the phone shut and just stared at it, strangely still.

A door shut behind Alec and he turned so slowly: Casey was watching him with questioning eyes.

"Everything okay?"

His mind still seemed so blank. "I gotta go." He repeated, so simple he probably seemed like an idiot.

"Alec?" He didn't say anything, and for one long moment, he seemed almost frozen. Then, in a sudden flurry of activity, he abruptly spun, and fairly flew down the concrete steps of the old motel. Her confused, insistent voice followed him down. "Alec, where are you going?!"

The only reply was that of a car door slamming, a motor gunning, and the squeal of the tires as he pealed out of the parking lot. Casey, still leaning out over the railing, frowned. What the hell was going on?

A dark part of her heart whispered she probably already knew.

A few states over, Mole stared at the silent phone in his hand and he sighed. "I _said;_ she's marrying Logan." He dropped the phone onto his desk. Humans; they were all so screwed up, he wondered how any of them managed to get by at all.

* * *

She paused outside the open door. Not glaringly open. Slightly open. Like someone had purposefully let it fall just far enough shut to instill dread. She didn't feel dread. She didn't feel anything.

Besides, he was the jackass that couldn't pick up a phone. That had waited three months before finally showing up.

The anger brought a shock of life into her system and her flat palm connected with the door, sent it slamming into the wall.

She'd thought he'd be waiting. He wasn't. The apartment was dark, silent, he was long gone, but every one of her overdeveloped senses screamed of his presence. He'd been here but he'd left once more.

Max dropped the plastic bag she'd been carrying to the floor, controlling the small laugh that tried to erupt at the thought. _He'd been here but he'd left once more._ Why so fucking funny? Because it seemed like that might be the only thing Alec was good at; leaving.

She followed the ghost of his presence. He didn't care about the kitchen; he'd never gotten the hang of cooking for himself and found the kitchen completely useless, save as a handy place to keep the cups and the alcohol. Or at least, that's what he'd once felt. Who knows if he felt anything anymore.

He'd gone to her bedroom first, even knowing that she wasn't there. Max's hand connected with the doorframe he had probably leaned against, his hard eyes scanning the familiar bed, the same plant that had been trying to die for over a year. Max pushed away from the doorway, turned and went into the only other room he would enter. It was completely empty. Empty buckets of paint in one corner, empty paint trays for filling, stained now by the yellow.

Whatever it was inside of her that told her Alec had been in her apartment, told her he'd been in this room the longest. Just standing in an empty room, staring at yellow painted walls. What had he seen in the bare walls that was so worth his study? Her anger was fading, no, it was gone, and she was empty, just like the room. A thought burbled; she needed to buy, beg, or borrow two cribs. And the meat in the bag that sat in her entryway needed to go into the fridge.

And suddenly a flare of panic from nowhere. She spun on her heel, back into her own room. Her dresser seemed undisturbed, but she yanked open the top drawer anyway.

It was gone. He'd found it, and he'd taken it.

She slumped; her head connected with the hard wood of her dresser. Her bare fingers convulsed around the edge of the open drawer, and she told herself it didn't matter if he knew. He'd made his choice, and she... she'd made hers.

The ring slid across the table with Alec's hard question still ringing in the air. Joshua frowned.

"Logan's ring." It was a statement; Joshua must have recognized it immediately. But the surprise faded and the taller man stared accusingly at Alec. He ignored that question still hanging darkly in the air. "Why does Alec have Logan's ring?"

It wasn't Logan's ring. It was Max's ring; the diamond that Logan had given her once before, and, apparently, had given her once more. The simple velvet box that it had been in had gotten tossed into the gutter a few streets over as he'd been walking with a purpose, headed towards Command, intent on finding Max. He'd been so focused, so angry, he'd barely felt the curious, sometimes accusing, eyes that watched him as he marched through the city that he'd once helped run... But he'd gotten here, and maybe she wasn't here either, and Joshua was staring at him with hooded, accusing eyes.

Why had he taken the ring? Had he been ready to shout at her accusingly, for hiding her pregnancy from him, and then use the ring and all the ridiculous dreams it represented as the trump card to throw in her face? As proof of her motive maybe; she still wanted her fucking happy ending, and Alec wasn't invited, and the ring seemed to reflect that in every one of its cold, sharp facets.

Despite Joshua's unhappy eyes, Alec reminded himself that it was Joshua that had called Mole, that surely that must mean something. If he was going to get answers from anybody, it would probably be him. "When?" Alec repeated harshly.

"No!" The bark of anger made Alec draw back in surprise, and Josh continued in angry tones. "No, Alec does not get to ask the questions."

Joshua waited, to see if Alec would try to fight him. When he didn't, just stood waiting seemingly patient, obviously impatient, Joshua frowned. "Why does Alec even care if Max marries Logan? You haven't been here."

Alec seemed to shut down a little bit; the spark within him fading. Joshua tried to stoke it, tried to bring Alec back. Tried to wake him up.

Despite the hardeness, his voice almost seemed laced with a soft sense of loss. "Where have you _been, _Alec?"

Alec didn't take a step back, but he got a little defensive. "I've been in Wyoming." Then added, "And California, and Oregon. I've been everywhere; I've been busy."

Joshua snorted. "Oh, yes, Alec sooo busy. He has all the time in the world for the Zoo, and not a single minute for his family."

His family? Family. The only family he had now was one that he wasn't sure he wanted waiting for him in Gillette. And all of that was eclipsed by-

"The Zoo?"

"The Zoo," Joshua nodded, his eyes still narrowed. "That's what we call your Manticore, here."

Your Manticore.

Something in him, something human, it almost laughed. All those X's back in Wyoming, looking down on those still here; would they still laugh if they knew their home was being called that same term that they themselves threw around so disdainfully. The Zoo. Max had accused him of trying to rebuild Manticore; of putting all the transgenics back in their cages. It wasn't completely accurate, but maybe he had succeeded, anyway.

Your Manticore.

Maybe Gillette and Seattle, maybe they were both zoos, and all the little animals would never really know what it is to be free. Maybe they were all just trapped by their genetics in a world that hated them.

Joshua watched all the dark thoughts that Alec thought he hid so well flicker across his face. The tall transhuman shook his head. Then offered, gently; "You're still a man, Alec."

"I'm a soldier," Alec snapped back immediately, his face hardening. He didn't see Joshua's shoulders fall, ever so slightly; his eyes were scanning Command, hoping for a glimpse of her.

"She's not here. She's at home." Joshua's voice seemed closer. Alec turned, the transhuman was standing before him, dainty ring held outstretched, dwarfed between two oversized fingers. "Don't forget Logan's ring."

"Max's ring." Alec corrected, swiping it from the larger man, before spinning.

Joshua's serious voice split the air just one more time before he could reach the doorway.

"You've disappointed me, Alec."

He paused for only a moment. He glanced over one shoulder, and he didn't deny it. Joshua could see it in his eyes; Alec had disappointed _Alec_ the most. But that's not what Alec's voice said.

"Not as much as Max has disappointed me."

Joshua's brow furrowed in confusion, and Joshua couldn't even ask Alec what he meant by that, because the door was already swinging shut behind him. He wondered, not for the first time, what had happened between them. The story he had from Max was sketchy at best; as angry as she'd been when she'd first come back, he hadn't understood many of the short clipped sentences that didn't seem connected to any other. He couldn't get a coherent story from her, and it seemed so strange that Alec wouldn't come to see her, so he finally just asked, _'Max, did you _tell _Alec_,' one day, when she was in the grips of one of her apathetic phases that she was too shut down to realize was sadness. She'd said yes, but with Alec's anger still lingering in the air, Joshua wondered.

Joshua was struck with an overwhelming urge to lift the both of them by the scruffs of their necks and shake them. Instead he brought a hand to his head and sighed. Confrontation was better than nothing. It was him, after all, that had wrangled the number from Dix, one of the ones Max had suspected of passing tabs onto Alec, and had apparently been right about. It was him that had called the number, expecting to talk to Alec, but ended up talking to Alec's second instead. And what he heard from that side wasn't any better than anything he'd been seeing here. Alec was not Alec and Max was not Max. And Joshua was fairly certain that if not-Max married Logan for the wrong reasons, not-Alec would never be human again. Maybe that's why he'd sent Alec after Max. Maybe he was just tired of being the only one with any sense-

"Was that Alec I just saw?"

Joshua shook his head. "No, Dix. That was not Alec." It was somebody else entirely.

* * *

She made dinner. She didn't eat it. She started to fill up the bathtub, but eventually just turned off the faucet and walked away while the tub was still half empty. She ended up just lowering herself to the couch to wait for him.

She woke up to find him staring down at her, the most neutral expression she'd ever seen on his face. She blinked at him once, twice, and then his mouth opened and his tone was almost conversational.

"I could fucking very well kill you."

What?

She scowled and struggled to sit up. Despite his palpable rage, he started to offer her help, she could see it in the twitch of his hand, but her face twisted into a scowl: she could get up on her own, thank you very much. His lips twitched, too, as he took in the stubborn set of her jaw, but his eyes fell upon the pregnant swell of her stomach, the source of her gravitational issues, and his eyes went narrow once more. He spun and walked away from her as she sat the rest of the way up. When he turned to glare at her once more, she was staring blandly at him, still sitting upon the couch, waiting.

But Alec was at a loss. He was choking on the rage, but unsure of how to release it, or even where to begin.

He was here.

She was here.

Now what?

It occurred to Alec he hadn't really thought this through when he'd been racing down the steps of that ratty old motel. The only things he felt like doing, being happy to see her, choking the life out of her, in that order, he couldn't very well do either of those things.

The silence stretched like an empty eternity between them. Max broke first, but her voice seemed strangely empty, as empty as the silence had been. It didn't crack through the room. It didn't have any of her fire.

"What do you want?"

It wasn't a question so much as it was a veiled 'get the hell out' but it made Alec pause anyway. What did he want? Once, he'd wanted her. Still did, if he was being honest, which he wasn't. Besides, why bother with honesty when she didn't want him; had never really wanted him. He wanted answers. Answers to questions that his mind was too blank to ask. He wanted… He wanted… God, he wanted to be as angry at her as he had been thirty seconds ago.

Max must have gotten tired of him standing there in her living room, mulling over a question that she undoubtedly thought should be easy. She stood up, without any of the obvious effort that it felt like she was expending, and her voice was harder, angrier, and why hadn't he been expecting the rage? She'd told him she'd never wanted to see him again, he should have been expecting… But behind all the rage, there was something small, lost, and hopeless. Her enraged voice cracked through the room, and the little lost soul hunkered within it. "What do you _want_, Alec?"

He drew into himself, defensive, and his face hardened. It was only with great effort that he kept his voice stony, when all he wanted to do was shout at her. If nothing else, at least she'd sounded like herself that time.

"You should have called me."

The rage flared and faded and she was just tired once more. She turned her back on him, and walked to the window, to stare out into a night that suddenly seemed colder. "Sorry," She didn't sound sorry, she sounded bitter, and not nearly as apathetic as she thought she was. "I was busy." Busy dealing with all the work and exhaustion that having twins, on top of still trying to run T.C., meant.

He took a step towards her turned back, and the anger built once more, struggled to regain the headway it'd lost when he'd seen her face once more. The anger at being kept out of the loop, of being lied to, it came back easily enough. The anger at a woman that hadn't cared enough to just pick up a goddamn phone wasn't that hard to find. "Well, you could have called anytime within the last three months. We both know you could have found my number if you'd wanted it."

It was the closest he would ever get to admitting that he had people in her command working for him. Or, well... he'd used to. They'd been strangely silent as of late.

If this had been a few months ago, his Max would have been enraged by even that slight admittance.

But this was not his Max. This was a Max that had transcended hatred, apparently. That apparently thought more of the grime caking the bottom of his boots than she did of the actual man within them. It scared him; it was everything he'd been frightened of when he'd been staring down at that dead Familiar in Oregon. Her eyes shut slowly, and her voice was a sigh. She'd known he'd had someone on the inside, just didn't know who, and she'd have been angry about it, but she was focusing on the other statement instead.

_She _could have called? How was any of this _her _fault?

"And you could have paged, so I guess we're even."

His laugh was short and disbelieving, and he was suddenly next to her, his eyes boring into the side of her face. "You're blaming this on _me_?"

The corner of her mouth ticked up in something that was almost a smile, or it would have been if there'd been any humor in it. "No," she wouldn't open her eyes, and he vaguely wondered if she was tired, if she was empty, or if she was just pretending. "I'm blaming it on the other man that knocked me up."

Everything within him froze. He was torn, didn't know what to do; part of him wanted to shake her and tell her to snap out of it, the rest of him wanted to ask if… maybe he'd gotten it all wrong. Maybe she hadn't told him because… He swallowed, and asked with that frozen face and a stiff voice, "Is it mine, Max?"

That was enough to get her attention. Her eyes popped open, her head swung to him, and for one moment, she cared enough to hate. The emotion flared within the room, brought it to life, and her beautiful face twisted and her harsh voice grated, "No, Alec, no _they _arenot yours. They're _mine_."

Despite the sharp crack of anger in her voice, it was answer enough and he relaxed, and then wondered why he relaxed. Would it have mattered if they hadn't been his? If, over six months ago, he hadn't been the only one that had warmed Max's bed? That last idea, frankly, seemed so ludicrous it was almost laughable. Maybe he'd already known that and he was just relieved because that spark of rage was better than the emptiness. Proof that she wasn't as unaffected as she was trying to act. Proof, that at least right now, she was just pretending, that she was still the angry bitch he had always wanted. And then-

"They?" His eyes dipped down. She did seem pretty well developed to only be six months along. Twins? Something flared within him; something strange and protective and alive. Gillette, Wyoming and all those responsibilities waiting for him there, it all suddenly seemed like none of that was even real.

"Twins," She confirmed without thinking, and abruptly wished she hadn't. She turned away from him, from the wonder on his face that softened some traitorous part of her mind, and stalked to the kitchen to stare at food cold on the counter. He followed.

"When?"

"They don't know. Doctor Shankar says twins have a habit of coming early." The sight of the food made her stomach flip, she turned and walked past him, stopped in the bathroom doorway to stare at the cold water in the unappealing tub. He followed.

His voice was slightly more annoyed. "_When_, Max?"

"I _told_ you, I don't know when they're coming." Her voice flared a bit. Even the _thought_ of lowering herself into the bathtub was tiring. Maybe that was it. She was just tired, even if all the adrenaline in her body was telling her should be running laps, not taking naps. She turned again, and she was walking away again, and her quick trot at least got her into the bedroom before Alec's hand connected with her arms and he spun her to face him.

"Goddammit, Max, stop running away from me."

She wrenched away, anger rose. Maybe she had been trying subconsciously to escape, but a statement like that coming from him, the person that had led a revolution against her, that had avoided her for three months? Her face twisted. "Oh, that's rich."

He took a step back, his eyes went narrow. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She took a step in and glared at him, and didn't even stop to realize that for the first time in three months, it seemed like there was actually color in the world: the green in his eyes, shot through with gold, seemed so bright, the room almost didn't seem dark. "It means I find it pretty ironic that the asshole that knocked me up and then waited three months to show up is accusing _me _of running. The only one that's been running from anything is _you_."

God, she hadn't changed at all. He took a step forward. "You're trying to blame this on me? You're the one that was so desperate to get your goddamn happy ending." The ring was suddenly in front of her face, but only for a second, because it was thrown across the room before she could even grab for it.

"Hey!" Her eyes followed its violent arc through the air. It hit the wall, the diamond catching light from a streetlamp outside the window, just for a second.

"Is your fairytale really that important to you?" Alec was scowling at her. She turned back to face him and scowled right back because she had forgotten how close he was, how easily he towered over her. She lifted her chin in defiance anyway.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

He'd left her, again, and here he was, mad at her, again, and she wasn't even entirely sure why he was the one that was angry. Through it all, only one thing remained clear; God, he hadn't changed at all.

His next words came so far from left field, it just about blew her mind.

"You can't sweep me under the rug by marrying him, Max."

It was said so calmly, so directly, Max had to blink once just to be sure she'd heard him right. And then the deja vu hit. He was pulling this crap _again_? He couldn't possibly expect- Her face twisted in anger, but he almost liked it; it was better than the damn funk she'd been in when he'd first gotten here.

"This again? He's the one that's been here, Alec, not you!" She stepped in even closer, but only to shove him away, glaring. "So what if I do marry Logan? Where were _you _when I was puking my guts out? When I was too tired to get out of bed in the morning? Where were you the last three months when I was all _alone_?!"

"I would have been here if you would have told me!" He raged back. "All you told me was that you never wanted to see me again! I was trying to give you what you wanted!"

Told him what? She scowled, opening her mouth, but Alec beat her to it.

His face remained hard, he was looking at her like she was one of the most horrible people on earth. "When I asked 'when', I wasn't asking when the babies were due, Max. I was asking when you were planning on telling me they even existed."

Her face twisted, her confusion was plain, her voice almost soft. "What?"

"Was getting your fucking happy ending with Logan worth not telling me?" His impatience cracked through the air; he didn't want to hear her excuses. "Just tell me when, Max!"

"I already told you!" Max bit back harshly, suddenly defensive. "Three months ago!"

"No you didn't." Alec snapped back. "I'm pretty fucking sure that I would have remembered something like, _'oh, by the way, Alec, I'm friggin' pregnant_.'"

She blinked in the darkness. Her obvious confusion confused him.

And then she scowled up at him and the whole world stopped.. "I didn't have to tell you. I told _Casey_. And seeing as how you two are such good friends, it should have gotten back to you!"

The anger froze. Alec froze. The whole world was frozen, and everything was quiet. Almost everything. Inside Alec's head, he felt something ripping, heard something tearing.

_He'd asked._

_"…Did she tell you something to tell me?" _

_And Casey, a woman he'd known, protected, since childhood, the closest thing to a best friend he'd had, at least until he'd met Joshua, and maybe Max, she'd answered calmly._

_"What's there to say? You heard her same as me. She never wants to see you again." _

This whole scenario flipped in his head. He saw it from Max's eyes for just a second. She thought she'd gotten the message across. And instead of following her to Seattle, Alec had kept his distance in Wyoming, like he didn't want- like he actually believed that bullshit 'girlfriend' statement he'd shouted at her- God, she wasn't the asshole. He was. He almost staggered backwards; he calmed it to a step, instead, and tried not to show the shock and weakness racing through his limbs.

"You... told her?"

"Yes, I told her." Max raged. "I thought it would be fitting considering she'd just called me a whore."

The world wouldn't restart. It wasn't Max that had lied to him. It had been-

"God, Max, I swear," He licked dry lips, blinked wide eyes. "I swear, she didn't tell me. I thought-" He couldn't finish the thought. He'd thought she'd never wanted to see him again.

"You thought what?" Max scowled, turning her back on him. "Thought I traipsed across the fucking wilderness for a tea party?"

The anger was a cover, though. She felt weak, surprised, and she'd had to turn her back towards him to hide it. What did his expression mean? The answer seemed obvious. Casey hadn't told him... Her fingers curled, her eyes closed. The other woman's familiar golden eyes flashed through her mind, and her hands itched and all she wanted was to find that fucking woman and -

A flash of memory. His angry eyes. His voice so clear._"Don't you ever call her that again. Casey and I go way back; much farther than you and I do."_

_And then: _

_"He didn't choose you, Max. He chose _me_." _

Her eyes popped open. So Casey hadn't told Alec. So what? The situation was still impossible. He was the same man that had led a revolt against her, that had recreated Manticore. Part of her mentioned that he was also the man that she had shared a bed with, that had worn down all her defenses. She quelled the thought with a clench of a fist that almost sent her nails through the skin of her palm.

Besides, she was marrying Logan, again, and from everything she could tell, Alec loved Casey.

That's what put her back on the right track. Alec loved Casey. And Casey had been right. Max wasn't the one Alec had chosen.

And like that, the violence in her clenched fists flared and was gone. He watched the fight drip out of her body. watched her slump like a broken marionette. His hand reached for her on its own accord and she must have sensed it despite her turned back because she flinched away. What did it matter, she asked herself. He'd made his choice. And she'd made his hers. "Was does it matter?" She repeated aloud. "I wasn't even your girlfriend, remember? I'm just the girl you _fucked_."

Alec's eyes hardened, his hand fell back to his side. The words, his words… "Max-"

"Go away, Alec." She sounded exhausted again. She walked away from him. "Maybe it was three months ago, but I think I mean it more now than I did then. I never want to see you again."

She wanted him to go, didn't want him to stay, didn't want him to break her down any farther.

Two steps forward and his hand connected with her shoulder to pull her around. Not as weary, or as broken, as she'd seemed, she spun and her fist cracked into his face. His jaw was red, his eyes angry when he turned his head back towards her to meet her defiant eyes.

"I mean it, Alec." She warned. "Go away."

His eyes dipped down to her much larger waistline, came back up and settled on her parted lips for just a moment, before boring into her own dark gaze.

"That's not going to happen, Max." Especially not now.

"What if I ask nicely?" Her head cocked to the side, her eyes hard. Her hard-ass stance, her familiar fire, it was like he was the moth and he couldn't draw away from her.

"Wouldn't help," He almost couldn't help that he leaned in. She couldn't help that her hard gaze turned uncertain, before her eyes started to fall shut entirely. But it's not as if their fighting hadn't had an effect on him. He hesitated just before his lips met hers.

She waited. And she hated. She _hated _him. She hated everything about him. And he still wasn't moving.

"Please," She whispered, sounding broken.

His gaze flicked upwards, away from her lips. Her hooded eyes, just barely open, were tight, tired, waiting, beginning to want. He could kiss her. They could fight and fuck and let the fire consume them. But they were both already so badly burned. And there was the twins between them. Literally. He glanced down at the swell that his hips were pressed against. He backed off, gave her the space she'd thought she'd wanted and couldn't stand now that he'd stepped away. He needed to think anyway. He spun and was gone, and Max, standing alone in her dark bedroom, was almost staggered by his sudden absence. She wasn't sure whether to be upset or relieved. She didn't feel either, because the light had left with him, and she'd been wrong. The world was still grey, she was still tired, and she wondered why, if she didn't feel anything, why her throat was closing like she needed to cry.

When had she turned into a weakling? Was it hormones? Or had she always been this weak when it came to lo- not love, but something that bore a strange, sick resemblence to it? She thought of Logan, of crying for Logan, and wondered why that loss and fear was dwarfed by this horrible, raging emptiness. The Max that had cried about a virus seemed so much more naive and immature than this Max that didn't know how to cry about a relationship that had never been a relationship and had always seemed more like hatred than anything else. If Logan was the fairytale, was pretty, dainty, single tracks of tears over a love not realized, and if Alec was the reality, was dark, nameless emotions that filled her, that kept building with no outlet, with no way to escape, except in sudden, angry bursts, she'd take the fairytale any damn day.

Being alive shouldn't hurt this much.

And she was afraid. Because even if Alec didn't know it, even if she didn't really want to admit it, when Alec had paused near her mouth, his face concerned, like he was trying to decide whether or not to close the distance... When she'd said 'please' she hadn't actually been asking him to leave. She'd been asking him to stay. She'd been asking for the amber burn like the strange, cold, colorless masochist she was. She staggered backwards, like he'd taken all her energy with her when he'd left, and all but collapsed to the edge of the bed, staring at the doorway he'd disappeared through.

* * *

He was tempted to get in his car and drive non-stop back to Wyoming. He was tempted to march back into his small, utilitarian room and pack his few remaining possessions and heaven help them if anyone asked him if something was the matter.

Heaven help her if Casey saw him before he could get out.

He didn't go back to Wyoming. He drove to the Space Needle and stepped out into frigid night air, staring upwards at its imposing structure. He didn't have the strength to climb its many steps, didn't have the strength to face all the memories, so he sat on the hood of his dark car and stared up at it instead. He sat there for what felt like hours, ignoring everything, strangely still, his thoughts strangely silent. He barely noticed the cold. He hardly noticed the lights of the approaching car and the person that stepped from it.

"I thought I'd find you here."

He grunted, barely acknowledging Logan's presence.

"Dix told me he saw you in Command."

No wonder Dix hadn't called Mole in the last three months. Apparently he'd flipped sides. Couldn't blame him. This whole misunderstanding, this whole mess, it did sort of make Alec look like the world's number one jerk. He made another noise in the back of his throat.

"What are you doing here, Alec?"

Alec's head swung slowly. He took in Logan's face. It was hard, his blue eyes as icy as the night air. The man looked exactly the same. He hadn't changed a bit. Why did Alec feel so much older? He looked at the Space Needle once more. "Max is pregnant."

Logan's voice was dry in response. "Having actually _been_ here the last three months, I'm well aware of that."

Annoyance flared and Alec slid off the hood of his car, turned to face the other man. "Well bully for you. Maybe if Max had actually _told _me, I would have been here too."

Logan's eyes narrowed in suspicion. His hands dug deeply into the warmth of his jacket. "What do you mean she didn't-"

"She didn't tell me! Okay? I don't know what Max has been splashing around T.C., but I'm not the one she told. She told someone else and assumed it would get back to me..." He paused before finishing bitterly. "Which it _didn't_." The anger flared again. Casey's calm, lying eyes flashed in his mind's eye. His fist tightened.

Logan's eyes were still narrowed in suspicion, and he was watching Alec in wariness.

Exasperation made him roll his eyes. "God, Logan, I swear she didn't say a word-"

"It doesn't matter," Logan interrupted. Alec fell back a bit, confused, but before he could open his mouth, Logan continued. "It doesn't matter, because they're not yours." When Alec still looked confused, Logan clarified. "The twins? They're not yours, they're hers."

Where had he heard that before? From her lips. She couldn't really believe that crap could she? Alec drew away, realization blooming.

His voice was stiff. "Is that what you told her? Is that how you convinced her to marry you?"

Logan leaned in, his blue eyes sharp behind his thin glasses. "I'm the one that's been here for Max these past months. Not you. And I'm the one that's going to be here for her kids…. Not you. Me."

"You?" Alec scoffed. He'd been Max's second in T.C. for a full year. He'd left T.C. for a different kind of stand almost two years ago. He wasn't the same youth that had let them heap all their shit on him right after Manticore. He was, however, the same man, that could see through all the bullshit, just like he'd been able to back then. And Logan was a fool for not realizing that. "You? Logan, you're territorial and possessive on a good day. What makes you think you could ever love any children of mine?"

"Because they're not yours." Logan repeated, his head cocking to the side, able to present a condescending air without changing his expression. Alec was struck by the urge to punch Logan in his smug, high-class mouth.

"Bullshit," Alec spat. "Maybe you spoon-fed that crap to Max, and maybe you even tried to believe it yourself, but we both know it doesn't work that way. What happens when she has the kids, Logan? What happens when you see some of me in them? Maybe you'll try, but you'll never really be over it. You'll always hate them a little bit, and part of you will despise her a little too. And it goes without saying that you'll always hate me. That'll make it a little difficult for you when I keep popping up to see the kids that you keep trying to tell yourself aren't mine." He shrugged, glanced away, couldn't help the little bit of snarkiness that felt like a comfortable old pair of shoes he was stepping back into. "Just think of how awkward Thanksgiving will be."

When had he stopped caring what Logan thought of him? Probably when he'd started caring what Max thought. Maybe when he'd left T.C. and grown up. Come to think of it, maybe he'd never cared, and had only ever tried for Max's benefit.

Logan watched him, still stiff. He relaxed a little bit, softened, and shrugged, like he accepted the smallest bit of truth within Alec's statement. But he backed it up with facts of his own. "I'm not the complete villain you're making me out to be, Alec. I do love Max. I've been here for her and I will take care of her."

And he meant it, Alec could see that plainly enough.

Maybe that was true. But it didn't change anything. Alec wasn't going to slink off into the darkness just because Logan cared for Max. He sighed, brought a hand up to his head, rubbed tired eyes. "Max doesn't love you, Logan."

"But she doesn't love you, either." Logan responded in a hard voice. "Sometimes I don't think-" He trailed off. Alec could see the statement roiling in the other man's mind. Sometimes, Logan knew, just as surely that Alec knew, that Max wasn't entirely sure what love was. But Logan would never admit something like that out loud, especially to him.

They stood in silence for a few long moments. He didn't know what made him reveal it to Logan. The man should be his rival, but- "I think I should move back."

Logan glanced up, his eyes sharpened. "_Don't_."

So, maybe that wasn't a revelation he should have made. Really, what had he been expecting? Logan was still human. As good and as upright as he may _try_to be, Logan still wanted Max for himself. Was still a strange, noble, do-goody, selfish, jealous little bastard. Alec smirked and shook his head, turning away. But Logan grabbed his at jacket, stopping him.

Alec glanced down at the hand gripping tightly at his arm. He glanced at Logan over one shoulder, his face so dark and so completely blank, it was like looking at somebody else. He looked nothing like the man Logan had known that first year after Manticore burned.

His voice was very carefully controlled, and the emptiness and the sudden rage was almost chilling. "Take your hand off of me."

He did, but Logan didn't give up. His eyes took in the slight bruising on Alec's jawline. "I take it you've gone to see Max?"

Alec thought of her familiar face, the fire burning in her eyes, the weariness and the want as he'd leaned in. Her whispered plea. He hadn't been able to decipher it. Had she wanted him to lean the rest of the way in, or had she wanted him to leave? He thought he'd known then, but after hours of sitting in quiet, now he wasn't so sure... He did know, however, that whatever it was that was between them, it wasn't completely healthy, actually wasn't even _remotely _healthy, and he needed to sort through his confusion. Try to figure out what the hell had happened with Casey. But Logan was still waiting, and Alec turned to face him once more. "Yeah, I went to see her."

Logan misinterpreted Alec's long pause, thought that Alec had seen what he saw. "That's not Max, Alec. That empty, tired person that wears Max's face? That's what you and your twisted relationship has made of her. She's broken, and if you come back, I don't think I'll ever be able to fix her."

She had seemed strange. Empty. At first. But then, like it always did, the fire filled her and she bled electricity into the air. He ignored that 'fixing her' shit, because he wasn't sure how to respond to it. Instead, he snorted, "Empty? Max? She's the same pig-headed, stubborn bitch she was when she came to visit me three months ago." He felt bitter just for a second as he muttered to himself. "Doesn't matter, my ass. Who does she think she's kidding?"

"What?"

Alec ignored Logan. The more he thought about it, the more he had to stand here and listen to Logan's bullshit, the less sure he was that Max's please had been a request for him to leave. The more he could see through her attempts to hold on to her apathy, the rage flaring through it all every single time. The more he realized that fighting with her was better than losing her completely. His lips pursed, his eyes narrowed. Suddenly, leaving her in the apartment seemed like it had been a bad idea. Like maybe staying and pissing her off some more would have been better for them both.

Maybe that was just wishful thinking, but Alec held on to it anyway. Maybe he was tired of being a wounded, angry, 'gloomy mother fucker' all the time. Maybe he'd just use any excuse to try and hold on to her.

There was something wicked gleaming in Alec's eyes, but something knowing, something hopeful, as well. Something that reminded Logan of the Alec that had once lived in Seattle. Maybe what Josh had told Dix was wrong. Maybe Alec hadn't really changed all that much after all.

But Alec's voice was sudden in the silence and it put Logan off guard. "I gotta go."

"I'm serious, Alec!" Logan warned him as he pushed his way past to the driver's side door of his car. "She's breaking."

Alec pulled open the door. And shook his head. "Max was broken long before she met me. Or even you for that matter." He paused before stepping into the car, though. "For the record... I really want to punch you in the face one day."

Logan just stared back. "Believe me, the feeling is mutual."

Alec just rolled his eyes, slipping into the car, starting the engine. Logan could have followed him to Max's apartment. He could have stood between them and tried to make Max see reason. He didn't, and Alec felt a small flare of appreciation when he saw Logan's car turn in a different direction then his own, heading away from Max's apartment rather then following Alec to it. Logan wasn't totally bad. Misguided, maybe, but at his core, he was still a good guy. Maybe he thought that Max and Alec should sort out whatever it was that they'd latched on to. Knowing Logan, he probably thought that the only way Max would be happy with him was if she got some closure with Alec. Fat chance. There'd never really be closure for them, especially now.

Now he just needed to convince her of that.

* * *

It was still night when she woke; the moon was shining through a window, and its familiar glow was more comforting than glaring morning sunshine had ever been. She was staring at the ceiling, but she was disoriented: the bed was dipping towards the right, towards a weight that should not be there. She turned and blinked her eyes in confusion at the familiar sight of Alec's hunched, jacketed back, sitting on her bedside, facing away from her. She forgot where she was; she almost thought he was reaching for his shoes, she almost asked him to stay. He glanced at her over his shoulder, instinctively knowing she'd woken up, and she caught sight of the ring in his hand, the ring she had numbly scooped from the ground and gingerly placed upon her bedside table after he'd left. Reality came crashing back.

How long had he been sitting there?

Why did he seem so calm?

And through it all; he hadn't left? Why was he still here?

Alec watched the questions flow across her face before snorting, and wiggling the diamond ring between his fingers. "Logan just can't let it go, huh?"

"He loves me," She snapped, defensive, her voice still slightly groggy. She cleared her throat and pretended she couldn't hear all of their silent recriminations bouncing through the dark room. Why didn't it just sound like a 'he loves me?' Why did her quick glance away from him seem to add, '_something you never did_.' Why did the familiar pursing of his lips and his hard eyes over his shoulder shout back at her, '_maybe I would have, it you would have let me_.'

And then between them both, a slight air of anger and bitter regret, and what-if's, just for a moment. She ignored those unspoken ghosts of emotion, and she ran thin fingers through ratty hair, wishing for a comb, wishing that she hadn't fallen asleep in her clothes, rumpling them, prayed that the slight amount of mascara she had applied this morning hadn't smeared around her eyes, wishing that she didn't wish for those things, that she hated him enough to not care.

Her voice, when it came again, while not gentle, was at least softer. "I thought you'd gone back to Wyoming."

"No. Had to think." He glanced at the ring once more. Put it back on the bedside table with a sigh. "So I went to the Space Needle and ran into Logan instead."

Max was afraid to ask what they'd talked about. So she didn't.

Alec shrugged. "Needless to say I didn't get any thinking done. Not with Logan yapping in my ear." Alec glanced at her over his shoulder. His gaze was teasing, and she could tell he was trying to get a reaction from her, hoping that he wouldn't. She wondered how a man who was so different could be exactly the same. She sat up slowly, drew her knees as close to her body as her stomach would allow her.

Maybe she should still be mad at him, but instead she asked, "Why'd you come back?"

Because maybe he was selfish, and maybe he was sick, but what he'd thought at the Space Needle had been correct: fighting with Max was better than losing her entirely. He scratched uncomfortably at the visible lines of his barcode below his short hair. It was a nervous gesture, and one that Max recognized. There was something burning in him, something he didn't want to let out.

Her voice was clipped and annoyed. "Just spit it out, Alec."

He stood and walked away from her. He turned on her when he reached the window, the soft glow of the moon and the weak light of the streetlamp flickering around him. She shouldn't be able to his features in the darkness, especially with his back towards the light, but clear night vision was one of the better perks of being part cat, and she watched the annoyance move across his face.

He watched her studying him for a moment, before asking, "Why do you always have to be such a bitch?"

"Why do _you_ always have to be such a pain in the ass?" She threw back.

He shrugged and silence stretched once more.

She wished she could be as angry as she'd been last week, when she'd thought he'd known and hadn't cared. Somehow, knowing that Casey had-

"I want to come back to Seattle."

Her head snapped upwards, connecting with his. "You _can't_." He _couldn't_. It would ruin _everything_. She was marrying Logan. She was trying to get her life back. She was trying to hate him.

He leaned back into the window, stubborn. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and crossed her arms across her breasts, just as stubborn. She glanced away, and shrugged, and tried not to be bitter. She failed miserably. "Besides, what would your girlfriend say?"

"My girlfriend?" He blinked.

"You know." She replied, her voice laced with sarcasm and all but sprung from the bed, pacing away from him. "The one that called me a whore right before telling me that you chose her over me. The one that forgot to mention to you that I was pregnant."

Suddenly, the strange conversation he'd had with Max in the underground hallway three months ago was taking on whole new meanings. Jesus. The more he talked to Max, the more he was the one that looked like a jack ass. His lips moved automatically before his brain did. "Casey, my girlfriend? That's gross, Max."

Max blinked, and in her confusion forgot to sound spiteful. Gross? That was a... strange way to put it. She turned back towards him. "Well, if she's not your girlfriend-"

Alec's hazel eyes refocused and connected with hers, but he still seemed slightly guarded about the subject. "She's _not_ my girlfriend. She's my friend," Those green-gold eyes gazed down a perfectly straight nose at her. "One I've been taking care of since we were kids."

And it hit her like a ton of bricks. Christ. How had she never noticed before? Was it because she'd only talked to Casey that one time, and afterwards, she'd been so angry at Alec, she could barely see straight? It was plain now, though. Casey's familiar golden eyes had stared disdainfully at her over the length of her perfect, straight nose. The one that Max had wanted to punch until it was completely flat. The platinum hair had distracted her, had masked the similarities, but god, replaying the very satisfying slap Max had laid on the woman, the stupid cow even had Alec's high cheekbones.

"She's your sister." It was almost accusing, and the relief that it brought was almost overwhelming. She tried to tell herself that that didn't change anything but who the hell was she kidding? "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He rolled his eyes, his arms dropped back to his sides. "We were cooked up in a petri dish, Max. All we share is a donor and a rare ability to get in trouble. I don't think the term 'sister' is very aptly applied in this case." He looked away, his eyes darkening. Especially considering the rather vital bit of information Casey had kept from him.

"Besides," he tried to cover it. "Think about it, if I'd tried to tell you I had a sister, how would you have reacted back then? You probably would have tried to tell me I didn't even understand the concept of a family."

Unfair, but maybe it was true.

Still... the encounter Max had had with the woman was taking on a whole new tint. The woman had been defensive, and as angry as she'd been in that small room three months ago, Max had still recognized that Casey had been grasping, trying to hold onto Alec. She'd thought, at the time, it was because Casey was the neglected girlfriend that saw Max as a threat for Alec's heart. But that wasn't it. Max was a threat because Casey was just another broken toy that didn't want to lose the only family she had, the brother that had always taken care of her.

But that didn't change the fact that she was a self-righteous bitch that needed to be taken down a few pegs. A lot of pegs. Maybe kicked down the pegs, and a flight of stairs as well.

Alec pulled out of his own darkness to watch the outraged, angry emotions play across Max's face. His voice was gentle. "What did she say to you, Max?"

Anger surged and Max stood, moving away from him, straightening her hair as best she could, twisting it over her shoulder. "It doesn't matter."

"It does matter." He followed her, calm but insistent. "Especially if it wasn't true."

"But it was true," She whirled on him. "She was right. You _left_, Alec. There's not a statement on earth that isn't as true as that was."

What could he say to that? It was true, wasn't it?

"You betrayed me." She continued flatly, her arms hanging, almost forlorn, by her sides. "You were my friend and-"

"Are you still going on about that?" His face twisted and he closed the distance between them. "Jesus, Max, that was two years ago! When are you going to get it?"

She advanced on him as well, because this was something more important than Casey. This was something she'd been waiting for for a long, long time. "Maybe when you finally have the decency to explain it to me!" It'd been eating her for two years, and the sickness couldn't be denied any more. "I think I deserve an answer, Alec, after all this time. Why did you do it? I _trusted_ you."

He frowned down at her in the soft darkness. What was there to say? That was so long ago... and he'd always told himself that she could never understand, but with her standing before, demanding an answer, so obviously betrayed... She deserved an answer, she always had, and he'd always been too much of a coward to give it to her. He sighed, thrust a hand through short hair that didn't even remotely hinder his fingers. "With or without me, change was coming, Max. And if I hadn't been the one to lead it, transgenics would probably still be based out of Terminal City, and that day would have been very, very different."

Her face descended into shocked disbelief and rage. "It would have been different if you hadn't chased Levi down! If you'd come to me first and let me know what was going on before breaking his neck!"

He broke in, his voice rising in anger. "Levi and his cronies wanted you dead! Maybe I took care of it the only way I knew how."

Her small hand connected with his larger shoulder and he took a steadying step back. "What, by killing him? By leading a massive fucking revolt against me?!"

He was silent, frowning, history obviously eating him behind his dark eyes.

"Well?!" She demanded. She shoved at him again, and his patience frayed.

Before she could shove him again, push him off the deep end, he snapped. "Fine. You want the truth, Max?"

"It'd be nice for a change." She huffed.

His angry voice snapped through the room, was almost like a slap to the face.

"The truth is, I didn't kill Levi."

Max backed down, deflated, and couldn't feel anything other than confused. "Wai- _What_?"

He scowled. "You know how I knew Levi was coming after you? Because he came for me first." Alec shook his head, his eyes still blazing. "C'mon, Max. He knew if I was alive there wasn't a chance in hell that he'd be able to get close enough to you to hurt you... Only Casey snapped his neck before he could pull the trigger that was aimed between my eyes."

She fell abruptly still. What do you even say to something like that? Max sure as hell didn't know.

Alec shrugged. "There was a body. There was a city on the brink of revolution, and I had two options. Hand Casey, my half-sister, and a woman that had just killed a man for me, over to a fucking mob and try to grab you and run, pretty unlikely considering how damn stubborn you are and the fact that you were waiting with baited breath for Logan to propose to you... or take credit for ending a fucker that deserved it, spout some anti-Max, anti-Ordinary, 'the revolution isn't coming soon enough' bull-shit, and slowly redirect them, get them away from you, back to a life that they all claimed they wanted."

All of that, and through her shock, the only thing Max could think to ask was, "Does Mole know?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? That scaly bastard helped me toss the body in front of all of Levi's dumb fucking 'generals.' He practically sold the entire story to them."

She shook her head. Her lips were dry. She forced words to form. It was like... like finding out Santa Claus didn't exist; like she'd believed a lie for two years. "That... just... That couldn't have been your only choice."

"That was it, Max." He seemed solid and immovable, like a statue, like a stone monolith that wouldn't bend to her soft denial. He didn't want to admit it, but it was almost like he couldn't help himself. "Casey got it wrong when she thought I chose her by leaving. That's not who I chose." His eyes flashed for a moment, seemed soulful just for a second, and then went back to their typical hardness.

"Don't put this on me." She whispered. "You never had to leave."

"Well, what was I supposed to do, Max?" His exasperation frayed her patience. What the hell could he have done? The answer seemed obvious to her.

"You could have stayed with me!" She retaliated. "You could have fought by my side."

"Against hundreds?" He laughed in disbelief. He had to pace away from her, come back in annoyance. "Jesus, Max, do you not understand how bad it really was?! It was like the fucking French Revolution all over again! The masses wanted blood; they were caught in up in Levi's fucking propaganda frenzy, they thought the only way to get rid of you was to put your head on a goddamn spike. If you hadn't been so busy chasing your fucking cure, maybe you would have noticed!"

It was true, wasn't it? In and out of town, dividing her attention between the cure and the caged populous, she'd never even noticed the ones prowling back and forth behind the fence, burning with hatred and the desire to be free. All this time, and she'd thought they'd been Alec's tigers... They hadn't been his at all. But... it was all so overwhelming, she didn't know how to react. So she reacted the only way she knew how. "Don't blame this on me!" Her hand caught his shoulder again.

He caught her wrist and pulled her closer, scowling in annoyance. "Stop fucking pushing me, already."

"I would if you weren't such an idiot!" Two years. Two fucking years. The loss, the thoughts, the questions... Her other hand came up, pushed his other side.

He caught that hand too. "Quit it!"

Both her hands were caught, her rage was wild, based on years of loss, and she didn't know how to act. "God, I hate you!"

"Well, believe you me, sometimes the feeling is mutual!"

She could feel the skin of her wrists bruising under the force of his hard fingertips. Her voice broke a little bit as she gazed up at him. "How could you leave me?"

His voice was still angry, frustrated. "I don't know." And he pulled her the rest of the way in to him, and just held her tightly, refusing to let go. Not that she fought him. She just kind of stayed there for a moment, almost limp, almost like the broken toy he knew she was. That was before her spine firmed like steel, she wrenched her wrists from him, and before he could shoot something at her, something caged and defensive, her hands gripped his jacket and she tugged his mouth down to hers. Her hands tightened in his collar as she arched against him, as his hands came to her waist, gripped tightly, almost desperately, and held her as surely, as closely to him as he could get her.

It was going all too fast. Her fingers were pushing off his heavy leather jacket. Sure hands were pulling her shirt from her body, sliding over the smooth skin of her back. Amber sparks were exploding behind her eyes every time he drew a ragged breath against her lips, every time her tongue slid against his. Time was skipping in strange ways, weaving around them, only available in warm flashes of connection; his hands on her waist, her fingers sliding under his shirt, pulling the offending garment up and away from his body, his mouth moving over her neck and her gasps into his ear. Time resumed though, uncertainty flicked through her eyes as she sat on the bed before him, gazing up at him.

"I'm not really sure where to go from here," He laughed softly, glancing down at her stomach. She didn't either, so she just leaned forward, let her eyes fall shut as her forehead connected with his abdomen, her eyes shutting. He sighed, his hands slid through her hair, glanced across a barcode. She'd lit the fire, and now she struggled to contain it, trying to calm her breathing.

Her voice was muffled. "We'll never work out."

"I know." He lifted her face to meet his. His lips twisted a bit as he caught her gaze. "But somehow I think that joint custody between your zoo and mine... Somehow I think that'll work even less." He thought of his kids, growing up in new Manticore, growing up behind T.C.'s barrier. The thought of either option turned his stomach, and hers as well, if that expression was any indication.

He stepped away from her, grabbed for his jacket and his shirt. She just accepted it with a kind of weary resignation. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at her. "For what it's worth, these last three months..." He trailed off, hesitant.

She buried her face in her hands, like she couldn't be seen to admit it. Her voice was harsh. "I know. I missed you too."

He smiled a bit before he turned back into a soldier. He almost didn't want to say it... but how could he not. "Max, you know what we've been doing."

Hunting down the Familiars. Her face darkened as she glanced up. Yes, she knew.

His voice was solemn in the darkness. "They're coming for you, Max. I don't know why now. Maybe they're tired of waiting on the government to finish the job. Maybe they never expected that the politicians in D.C. would be content to just leave you in a cage and forget about you. I don't know. All I know is that they're getting closer every day."

She knew what he was saying. He wanted her out of Seattle. He wanted her to come with him. She didn't say anything back. There was nothing to say. They both knew she wasn't going anywhere. He almost started to leave, but-

"Alec..."

He paused once more. But she couldn't say it, couldn't ask it. His eyes flicked towards the nightstand, towards the ring waiting, and he answered her unspoken question. "Don't do anything stupid before I get back."

God, he was such an asshole.

They both knew he hadn't really needed to answer her unspoken question, _are you coming back_, anyway. It was dual-sided. Maybe Alec always left. But, on the other hand of it, he always came back as well.

And if nothing else, Max had finally gotten her explanation.

But what the hell was she supposed to do with it?

And where the hell could he possibly be going? She thought of the shock on his face when she'd let it slip that it was Casey that she'd told. The betrayal. She figured she probably knew where he was going, and it was just as well, because she didn't know that she could face Logan in the morning if Alec was still sleeping in her bed. Christ, she was betraying him _again_. And even though she didn't say it out loud, her heart already knew; she was leaving him again, too.

Her head sunk into her hands and stayed there well after Alec's car hit Seattle's city limits. Well after the pre-dawn started to tint the air, and Alec glanced in his rearview mirror to stare hard at himself and question, for the first time, his inability to hit a woman that hadn't hit him first.


End file.
